A Winter's Tale
by Chamelaucium
Summary: The Solstice festivities are drawing closer in Erebor. As the sacred night approaches, one hobbit's heart becomes harder to ignore as Bilbo learns that miracles can happen even to him. He also comes to learn that Frodo and Fíli and Kíli are cunning little minxes who can't be trusted to keep a secret. (A festive Thilbo story - written for the lovely DancingChestnut.) *Now Complete.*
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So I am a little late for Christmas but that shouldn't really matter. This story was originally going to be a little one-shot, a couple of thousand words at most, but my brain ran away and came up with this and it's turned into this behemoth of a story. So all I can say is that I really hope you enjoy it! :3**

_**Note: This is an AU, so everyone lived. Frodo is young but I have no set age (canon timelines wouldn't work anyway) so he's whatever age you think fits. And lastly, Bilbo returned to the Shire 6 years ago and Frodo has lived with him for 3. **_

**This was written as a Christmas mathom for the super wonderful DancingChestnut - my dear, I hope you like it! :D**

* * *

**_A Winter's Tale_**

The looming shape of the Lonely Mountain towered above them, the snow-covered city of Dale lying in its shadow. The city was much changed - no longer was it empty, deserted husks of buildings silent in the wintry air; now it was busy and teeming with activity as the citizens went about their business, Yuletide markets bright and filling the air with the smells of spices, fruit and pine.

The pony Bilbo was riding took it all in her stride unaffected by the hustle and bustle of the town. Bilbo was more concerned for his little nephew, tucked tightly in front of Bilbo on the saddle and gaping around him. It was so new to him, so big, and Bilbo could feel the excitement thrumming through his little nephew. He rested a hand on Frodo's shoulder and the lad turned to look at him with bright eyes.

'Can we buy some gingerbread, Uncle Bilbo?' he asked, as the pony trotted past a stall selling slices of particularly delicious-looking gingerbread. Bilbo chuckled.

'Perhaps later, Frodo,' he said. 'First we need to rest for a while - we don't want you falling off now, do we?'

Finally they reached their host's home: the large, ornate gates of the house Bard now resided in. He was King of Dale now, just as his ancestors had once been, and judging by the prosperity of the city now he was doing a fine job.

However, he was not the King that Bilbo was here to see.

Bard was waiting for them by the gates to his home, a welcoming smile on his face as Bilbo dismounted from the pony, helping Frodo down after him.

'You are welcome here, Mister Baggins,' Bard said, shaking Bilbo's hand warmly.

'Thank you, Your Highness, for your hospitality,' Bilbo replied, returning the handshake before lifting Frodo onto his hip. Now the boy was off the pony, he was leaning on Bilbo's legs as he became sleepy.

'Who is this fine young lad?' Bard asked, bending slightly to smile at Frodo. Frodo looked uncertain, but he didn't hide his face. 'He's yours?'

'In a sense,' Bilbo replied, ruffling Frodo's curls and ignoring Bard's raised eyebrow. 'This is Frodo, my cousin and my nephew. His parents...were in an accident a few years ago, so I'm now his legal guardian,' Bilbo said, fisting a hand gently into Frodo's dark head of curls, a comforting gesture to both himself and the lad; his throat felt tight when he thought of his cousins and their unfair, untimely deaths, even after three years.

'I'm sorry to hear that,' Bard said, a small frown on his face. He rested a hand gently on Frodo's arm before letting his hand drop. 'Oh, but you must come inside! It's far too cold to be standing out here.'

He led them up the large pathway leading to the residence. There were many fires crackling merrily in the grates and it was immediately warmer; Bilbo's fingers tingled at the sudden change in temperature and he held Frodo's hands in his own to help the boy acclimatise more easily.

'I'd imagine you'd like to rest before dinner?' Bard said, smiling as Frodo looked up at the word "dinner". Bilbo nodded gratefully and Bard began to show them up a flight of stairs, a couple of pageboys following carrying their luggage. 'There's warm water to wash and extra layers, if Dale's winter is harsher than you anticipated,' the Man said as he stopped outside a door. 'I hope everything is to your liking.'

'I'm sure it will be, thank you, Bard,' Bilbo replied, a deep tiredness settling in his bones. He stifled a yawn as he felt Frodo sagging against him and Bard gestured for them to enter.

'Rest well, Mister Baggins. Dinner will be served at seven o'clock.'

Wearily Bilbo merely nodded and stepped into the bedroom, gesturing that the pages could leave their packs by the door. He'd sort them later; for now he just wanted to get Frodo to bed. The boy was desperately trying to keep his eyes open, and managing fairly well, but Bilbo knew the glaziness that stole over Frodo's blue eyes when he grew tired.

The bed was Man-sized and plenty big enough for the both of them, with luxurious throws and soft, silk sheets. Bilbo pulled the cover back on one side of the bed and gently loosed Frodo from his hip and placed him on the bed, tucking the covers tightly around him.

'Sleep for a while, Frodo lad, and maybe when you wake up we could see about that gingerbread, eh?' Bilbo said, and Frodo grinned sleepily up at him. Bilbo pressed a soft kiss to his forehead - a gesture he'd seen Primula carry out on numerous occasions - and Frodo closed his eyes, his breathing gradually slowing as he dropped into sleep.

Bilbo didn't get into bed, instead sinking into one of the plush armchairs by the fire, lighting a pipe and gazing into the flames. His thoughts wandered, travelling out of Dale and across the plains and down deep into the mighty Kingdom of Erebor. To the one who sat on the throne, a crown of mithril adorning his head. Bilbo wondered what it would be like to see Thorin again.

Bilbo soon fell asleep, warm by the fire and anticipation curling in his gut.

* * *

When he woke, it was half past five and dark outside. Frodo had woken up and was staring out of the window at the lights of the city below.

'Uncle Bilbo, look,' he whispered when he heard Bilbo stretching behind him. 'It's so big.'

Bilbo joined his nephew at the window, laughing gently at the way Frodo's curls were sticking up every which way, and stared out through the glass panes at the orange glow of the lamps and candles down below and the softly falling snow. He hoped the snow wouldn't make their journey the next day too difficult.

Billbo then moved away and ran a bath - there was a fine porcelain tub in the small adjoining bathroom and a water pipe system which looked distinctly dwarvish in origin, and the water that came out of the tap was mercifully hot and soothing. He pulled out a clean set of clothes for them both and a fluffy towel from the pile before carrying Frodo into the bath. The lad resisted at first but when he saw the gentle steam rising off the water he obeyed and quickly got into the water, succumbing to Bilbo's ministrations. Bilbo chuckled and helped Frodo wash, and clean his hair, before towelling him down and getting him dressed in the clean set of clothes.

'Now, go and read your book while you wait for me, alright?' he said, and Frodo nodded before scampering off and rummaging through his little knapsack for his book. It was one Bilbo had written and illustrated for him and since Bilbo had taken him in, Frodo insisted on taking it everywhere with him. Once satisfied that Frodo was not about to get up to any mischief, Bilbo got into the bath and sighed at the luxury of the warm water - something they'd sorely missed during their journey - as the heat soothed his tired bones. When he heard Frodo beginning to pad around next door he hurried out and got dressed, before the lad could break anything.

They still had half an hour until dinner, so Bilbo resumed his place in the armchair and Frodo climbed onto his lap.

'Would you tell me again about the dwarves?' he asked, looking up at Bilbo with his big eyes.

'We're going to see them tomorrow,' Bilbo chuckled, pulling a deep breath on his pipe; but Frodo just looked at him. 'Alright! Well, there was Bifur, Bofur, Bombur...' Frodo joined in as he recited their names. '...Dori, Nori, Ori, Óin, Glóin, Dwalin, Balin, Fíli, Kíli and T - Thorin.' He managed to mask the slight stumble he made over Thorin's name.

'Was Mr Thorin your favourite, Uncle Bilbo?' Frodo asked solemnly.

'What? Why?' Bilbo sat a little straighter in shock.

'You always look away when you say his name,' Frodo said, 'as if you're looking for him. Mummy used to look like that when she was talking about Daddy.'

'Oh! Goodness me, no, Frodo. Thorin's not my favourite. I don't _have _a favourite,' he said, trying not to show Frodo how discomfited by that remark he was. Yavanna would forgive him for the white lie, surely? He hadn't let himself think like that in years - six years had gone by in which he'd pushed away all those thoughts. He couldn't let them back in now just because he was going to see Thorin again. Besides, he had Frodo now; the affections of a dwarf King were not among his priorities. Even so, he was surprised at how astute little Frodo was.

Frodo shrugged and turned to pick at a loose thread on Bilbo's shoulder as Bilbo continued the story. He'd told Frodo the tale so many times before but the lad never tired of hearing it. At some parts, Frodo joined in, laughing as his Uncle made a funny face or put on a silly voice, until a knock sounded at the door and a pageboy entered to tell them it was time for dinner.

Pressing a soft kiss to Frodo's head, Bilbo scooted him off his lap, picked up the jewel-bright blue waistcoat of Frodo's and put it on him, before following the page with Frodo's hand tucked firmly in his own.

Bard's home was large but still comfy, tapestries lining the walls and soft furnishings everywhere. The page led them through the house to the large, open dining room, where Bard sat with his daughters and son. He stood when Bilbo entered the room and gestured that they should come and sit in the seats on Bard's right hand side. They sat, Bilbo making sure Frodo could reach the table (with the help of a few cushions) and the meal began. The conversation was just pleasantries, as Bard asked if the room was satisfactory and Bilbo praising it - but especially the food. Bard's youngest daughter and son were smiling at Frodo, who eyed them warily and leaned a little closer to Bilbo; but when Bain forwent all propriety to throw a chestnut in the air and catch it in his mouth (earning a disapproving look from his father) Frodo grinned back and immediately shifted closer to them.

Once Frodo was deep in conversation with Tilda and Bain, Bard leaned in a little closer to Bilbo as he spoke, his voice lowering just a little.

'So you leave for Erebor tomorrow morning? I will provide you with an escort, of course.'

'Thank you, Bard,' Bilbo said gratefully.

'It is of no matter,' Bard smiled. 'After all, perhaps your presence will do some good in the Mountain.'

Immediately Bilbo tensed. 'Why? Is something wrong?'

'Oh, don't fear - it is not the gold-lust returning, of that you can rest assured. But Erebor is not as happy as it once was; recently King Thorin has been...withdrawn at our meetings.'

Bilbo frowned and looked down at his plate as his stomach knotted. Was he about to take Frodo into a Kingdom full of political unrest and rebellion? 'I am not sure what good I can do, Your Highness.'

'Oh, you underestimate yourself, Mister Baggins. And surely you know the joy a child can bring? Your young nephew will liven things up, I've no doubt.' Bard tapped his hand lightly as he returned to his food. 'But please, don't worry yourself; I would hate for you to be unrested tomorrow because of a few words on my part.'

Bilbo nodded, but the food wouldn't go down so easily and he struggled to swallow. Erebor was unhappy and Thorin withdrawn? Why had none of the dwarves spoken about this in their letters? A sense of foreboding settled over his heart, but he had no chance to focus on it as Frodo tugged on his sleeve as the dinner plates were being collected and asked, 'Uncle, could we get some of that gingerbread now please?'

It made Bard chuckle and the King of Dale ordered that warmed milk and gingerbread be brought out for the younger ones. Frodo was delighted and scoffed his down quickly - Bilbo sent him a pointed look about his manners - but soon he was becoming drowsy again, his head lolling against Bilbo's shoulder.

After a few more pleasantries with Bard, Bilbo scooped up his little nephew and carried him back to their room. He made Frodo wake up enough to change into his night clothes and then swiftly tucked him into bed before he got cold, pulling the covers close. Not long after he joined Frodo in the bed, holding him close as the snow fell outside in the cold, wintry night.

* * *

They woke early the next morning, while the sky outside was a dark, muted grey. Bilbo could see the first rays of the sun turning the easternmost sky a pale, blueish pink as he began his ascent.

He had a little trouble waking Frodo, who clung to Bilbo as his uncle tried to leave the bed and then curled into a ball and clutched at the covers when Bilbo tried to prise them from him. Bilbo had to eventually promise that they'd buy some gingerbread in order to get Frodo to even open his eyes.

With a tired hobbitling to dress, the sky was already fully light by the time they were finally dressed and breakfasted, Bard providing them with the finest fruits and cereals Dale's winter markets had to offer.

The snow crunched satisfyingly underfoot as the two hobbits, well bundled up in many jackets and jumpers, finally crossed the yard to the stables carrying their packs, where Bard was waiting with their well-rested and fed pony already saddled.

'Goodbye for now, Mister Baggins,' Bard said warmly, shaking Bilbo's hands. ' You are always most welcome here - we do not forget what you did for us.'

At Bard's words, Bilbo tried to swallow against the lump in his throat as he returned the handshake, and merely nodded in reply. Then Bard called out and his children appeared, carrying packs which looked deliciously full of food. Tilda grinned at Frodo as she passed her pack to Bilbo, who secured it tightly to the pony along with their luggage and the other food supplies, and when Bilbo turned she was giving Frodo a hug. He smiled at the sight.

But then it was time to go and he lifted Frodo up into the saddle first before climbing up himself. Once he'd made sure Frodo was tucked safely in front of him and wasn't about to slide off, he waved a final goodbye to Bard and his family before he nudged the pony forward and joined the contingent of guards who would lead them to the mountain.

True to his word, he stopped at the already bustling market and purchased some gingerbread for Frodo which mercifully kept him quiet - at least, until they reached the city gates. He _was _a hobbit, after all.

The journey was a surprisingly easy one, despite the snowfall the night before - it wasn't deep and while the slopes were occasionally a little slippy the pony was sure-footed and navigated the snowy rock well. Which meant all Bilbo had to deal with was the incessant questions coming from Frodo - he had no idea where he got some of the questions from, but he went along with it as his nephew nattered on and on.

But as they drew closer to the Mountain Bilbo's throat constricted and nerves began shifting in his gut, but he pushed away his own anticipation when Frodo grew silent and and leaned into him slightly, eyes wide as he watched the looming gates to Erebor draw closer.

'What's up, Frodo-lad?' he whispered into Frodo's ear.

'It's so big, Uncle,' came the muttered reply. 'And I'm scared.'

'Frodo Baggins. You have met elves, travelled through Mirkwood and been an honoured guest of the King of Dale. You've even lived with your old uncle Mad Baggins. Are you going to let a couple of silly dwarves scare you?' he said softly.

'I don't think you're mad, uncle. But you said the dwarves had weapons and were good fighters. What if they don't like me?' he asked plaintively.

'They will love you, Frodo, I'm certain of it. And if they don't, then they'll have me to answer to,' Bilbo reassured him, protectiveness welling up in him. He reached forward and took hold of Frodo's hands and the lad clutched at him gratefully; it did the trick and soon Bilbo was once more having to keep careful hold of Frodo lest he fall right out of the saddle.

Eventually they reached the gates, as the sun began his early descent down behind the horizon, and after one of the guards from Dale conversed with the sentry at the gatehouse, a great horn blasted and the Front Gates were being opened to receive them.

Suddenly it was Bilbo clutching at Frodo's hand and it wasn't to confort the lad; it was Bilbo who sought comfort from that small warm grip as the pony trotted slowly inside. He was here, he was back in Erebor, and he was going to see his dwarves again.

And Thorin. He was going to see Thorin again.

Quickly he pushed the thought away, remembering Frodo's comments from the evening before, and suddenly all the breath was expelled from his body in a gasp when he saw them. They were standing there in a group in the middle of the courtyard, hustle and bustle all around but all Bilbo saw was the group of dwarves he'd known, that he'd saved and been saved by on numerous occasions.

And when a pair of piercing blue eyes met his own and a set of finely-chiselled lips curved into a small smile, Frodo let out a small "ouch" and Bilbo immediately loosened the grip he'd unconsciously tightened on the boy's hand.

Oh Yavanna, here was here. Thorin was here and Bilbo had no time to compose himself; six years of trying to forget the silly emotions that flooded through him whenever he remembered Thorin's face was immediately nullified with that one look. Six years of denial swept away with a single smile and Bilbo was left breathless.

Their pony and the mounted guards eventually stopped and Bilbo dismounted, helping Frodo down after him, carrying him on his hip as the dwarves came forward. Frodo was getting slightly too big to be carried and Bilbo wasn't usually one for babying him, but if he though it was odd he didn't say anything, especially as Bilbo's grip tightened when the dwarves stood there in front of him, grinning like mad.

There was silence for a moment as they simply stared at each other, Bilbo drinking in the sight of his friends after six long years but deliberately avoiding meeting the gaze of a certain king. But then Thorin stepped forward and Bilbo had no choice but to look at him before the dwarf swept into a low bow.

'Thorin Oakenshield, at your service.' He straightened and smiled at Bilbo, who hastily returned the bow - albeit a little clumsily what with Frodo in his arms - so that he could hide the blush starting to creep up his neck.

'Bilbo Baggins at yours,' he said, smiling, as he straightened. He nudged Frodo gently.

'And Frodo Baggins, sir,' Frodo piped up, meeting the curious gazes of of the dwarves without flinching. His hand was was curled into Bilbo's hair at the nape of his neck, so he was not entirely at ease but Bilbo beamed at the lad's bravery.

Thorin's eyes widened in recognition at the name, and he looked at Bilbo again. 'So this is your nephew?' Bilbo nodded, and Thorin's gaze softened as he turned back to Frodo. 'You are most welcome here, Frodo Baggins of the Shire,' he smiled gently. His eyes travelled back to Bilbo whose heart was thumping wildly, and he shifted Frodo on his hip to hide his discomfort. Then all propriety and etiquette was swept out of the door as the dwarves crowded Bilbo, hugging him (and Frodo in the process), or in the case of the extremely enthusiastic Fíli and Kíli, smashing their heads against his.

When they'd settled down and Bilbo was breathless with emotion and laughter, Frodo whispered into his ear, 'Uncle, I'm cold,' and buried his face in Bilbo's neck. At his words Bilbo realised quite how chilly it was, the sky still overcast and the clouds a dark grey, as if they were ready to start snowing at any moment. He looked apologetically at the dwarves who immediately apologised for keeping them outside in these inhospitable conditions for any longer than necessary.

Thorin ordered Fíli and Kíli to collect Bilbo and Frodo's packs from the pony and lead them to the stable; after a quick word of thanks to the guards with a message of gratefulness to Bard, Bilbo, along with Frodo on his hip, was following his old friends into Erebor.

Bilbo was unsure how to feel about this place. It was his friends' home and where they were happy; it was also the place he'd been hurt, his heart broken twice - before Thorin had lived to (unknowingly) patch it up slightly - enough that Bilbo could pretend it had never been broken but he still would still wake sometimes in the dead of night, chest tight and breath coming in short gasps.

But he forgot all that when he saw the dwarven city. It was humongous, as it had been when he'd seen it before, but if possible it was even larger now it had been cleaned and restored. It was magnificent and Bilbo could only stare around him.

Thorin was walking beside him, insisting that Bilbo take the pace of honour at his side, and Bilbo would have felt uncomfortable if he had not been in such awe. On his hip, Frodo too was gaping at the magnitude of the city and when he looked at Bilbo they were wide and blue. Oh Yavanna, they were the same blue as Thorin's... Bilbo had noticed it before, but it had been easy to forget when it was only little Frodo, cheeks flushed pink with excitement or exertion; but now he had two pairs of brilliant sapphire eyes trained on him, one of which seemed determined to get under his skin, and it made him breathless.

Thorin and the Company led Bilbo and Frodo up to the Royal Quarters, all the servants and maids they saw bowing low to Thorin as they passed. They climbed the stairs, Frodo growing increasingly heavy in Bilbo's arms but he was reluctant to let him go.

'How are you feeling?' Thorin asked, turning to Bilbo, who felt himself flushing at the intensity in his gaze.

'What, sorry?' he asked, flustered by the question.

'Are you tired? Would you like rest or food?' Thorin asked. Bilbo sighed in relief and turned to Frodo in his arms to try and hide his embarrassment. Oh, by the Green Lady, Thorin's gaze was so distracting and he was finding it increasingly difficult to keep the thoughts he'd kept locked away for six years hidden in the face of that piercing gaze.

'Frodo, are you hungry? Or do you want sleep?'

Frodo looked thoughtful for a moment before he decided food was the most important. The dwarves all gave a little cheer at that and Frodo buried his face in Bilbo's neck again before Bilbo could coax him back out. Frodo was getting very heavy now so he whispered softly in the lad's ear before setting him on the ground and holding his hand tightly. When he looked up, Thorin had a strange look in his eyes as he regarded Bilbo.

Suddenly incredibly self-conscious, Bilbo busied himself with straightening out Frodo's waistcoat and jacket. When he looked back up Thorin's face was once more reserved and unreadable.

Thorin and Balin then led them all to the dining room which Dori quickly explained was used for the small, informal dinners Thorin would sometimes have with his old Company. Frodo pottered along beside him, clutching Bilbo's hand as they walked through the stone corridors, still gawking at his surroundings.

They reached the dining room and Bilbo was struck by the sight that met them. The room was decked out for the Solstice, but this was unlike anything Bilbo had ever seen before. Around the room and attached to the walls were gems and precious jewels, all hollowed out and a little flickering candle placed inside, the flame sending little jumping flecks of coloured light onto the walls, which were adorned with rubies and emeralds where the table had clear diamonds casting out a pale orange light. Bilbo and Frodo stared at the sight as the dwarves took their seats, looking extremely pleased at the reaction of their hobbit to the decorations.

A gentle touch on his shoulder made Bilbo jump, however, and he span around to see Thorin, one hand lightly resting on Bilbo's shoulder as he gestured with the other hand that Bilbo should take his seat - at the end of the table, next to Thorin's. Bilbo's stomach was backflipping at the contact but he refused to let it go to his head; he was determined not to blush but it was difficult when their chairs were close enough that Bilbo could feel the heat emanating from Thorin and occasionally the fur on the dwarf's coat tickled Bilbo's shoulder. Bilbo was grateful for the ambient lighting of the room, because he was sure his face was bright red.

Frodo was shy again at the start of the meal, pressing close to Bilbo, but at Balin's kindly wink and Fíli's and Kíli's mischievous grins he soon warmed up to them.

'Do you know who we are, Frodo?' Kíli asked, cheeky grin on his face. Frodo smiled back.

'Of course. You're Kíli - Uncle Bilbo told me you hadn't grown your beard yet.' Kíli scowled a little at that, but Fíli couldn't stop laughing. 'Uncle's told me all about you all.'

'Good things, I hope,' Thorin rumbled from beside Bilbo, and the hobbit had to repress a shiver that threatened to run down his spine. 'There's more to us than just fighting and metalwork.' His voice was unexpectedly soft when he said that, and Bilbo couldn't resist shooting a look at him, but he hastily averted his eyes when he realised Thorin was looking at him with unexpected gentleness.

'Oh yes, of course,' Frodo said. 'He's told me all the stories, and about how happy he was. And he always seems happy when he remembers-' Frodo broke off, a little uncertainly, but Bilbo reassured him with gentle touch to his dark curls.

'I'm glad of that.' Thorin smiled gently at Bilbo, who returned it with a quick smile of his own before returning to his food. Oh Yavanna... How was he going to survive another few weeks of this, if he could barely keep himself in check after an hour in the dwarf's company?

'It is the Solstice celebration in three days' time,' Balin was saying, 'and you will of course be the guests of honour...'

'Will there be gingerbread?' Frodo asked, tugging on Bilbo's sleeve, before clapping his hand over his mouth when he realised he'd interrupted, eyes wide, but the dwarves just laughed, amused chuckles sounding from even Dwalin.

'Of course there'll be gingerbread!' Bombur laughed. 'And marzipan, and fruit cake, and pies...' Frodo's eyes widened in delight when he heard that and he looked at Bilbo with such eagerness on his face that Bilbo couldn't suppress the wave of affection that rose up in him, and he pressed a kiss to Frodo's curls. He could feel Thorin's eyes on him but he didn't turn around, instead smiling down at Frodo and the rest of the Company.

But then Thorin was addressing him formally and Bilbo had to face him as he said, 'there's someone I'd like you to meet.' Immediately Bilbo was alert. 'Bilbo, Frodo, I'd like you to meet my sister, Dís.'

Bilbo jumped to his feet as the Lady Dís walked in; she was the spitting image of Thorin with her dark hair and noble, sharp features, but her mouth was already turned up into a ready smile.

'Hello, Mr Baggins,' she greeted him warmly, clasping his hand. 'My brother and my sons have told me so much about you, it's truly an honour to meet you.'

'And you, my Lady,' was all Bilbo could stutter out, self-conscious as he was of Thorin's gaze on him, but Dís didn't seem to mind as she was already crouching down to talk to Frodo, who had stood when Bilbo did.

'Hello, young man,' she said, and Bilbo could tell she was good with children immediately. Frodo didn't look wary of her at all, instead grinning at the mischievous glint in Dís' eyes. Funny, Bilbo thought, how she could be so cheerful when Thorin was most decidedly _not _so cheerful... Although, he wasn't doing too badly on that front tonight, Bilbo had to admit.

As Dís made friends with Frodo, Fíli and Kíli joining their mother and no doubt filling Frodo's head with mischief and trouble, Thorin drew Bilbo to one side. He tapped Bilbo lightly on the shoulder (which made Bilbo's heart veritably leap into his throat) and gestured that they should move away from the table slightly.

Thorin's voice was low and husky when he spoke and it sent definite shivers down Bilbo's spine as he tried to focus on Thorin's words, not his lips, and definitely not letting himself think of other scenarios Thorin would be speaking in such a manner.

'Bilbo, I... I know that we did not part on the best of terms-'

'Oh, Thorin - Your Highness-'

'Please, Bilbo, let me finish.' There was a pleading look in his eyes and Bilbo swallowed and nodded. 'I know we parted on barely _lukewarm _terms, but six years is a long time for a dwarf to think and regret his folly.' He gave a wry smile and looked at his feet. 'Six years have passed and that is six years too many that you have been away from us, although I understand that you had to return home. But Bilbo - I would that you knew that your presence has been sorely missed here.'

He paused for a moment, a frown appearing on his face. For his part, Bilbo was too struck to speak. Thorin had...missed him? Oh Lady, his heart wasn't going to forget that, judging from the way it was threatening to break out of his ribcage when Thorin looked him directly in the eye and smiled. 'I am glad you are back, Bilbo.'

Oh, and if that didn't just make Bilbo grin something silly! He was afraid his heart might burst if Thorin continued to look at him like that, so he hastily looked away, trying to hide the happiness bubbling just below the surface, before rejoining Dís and the boys.

'Bilbo, your boy really is adorable,' Dís was saying, before Bilbo corrected her.

'My nephew, my lady. Frodo's my nephew and cousin.'

Dís immediately apologised, looking a little abashed, but then she paused before she said, 'so you're not married?'

Bilbo stifled laughter. 'No, my lady, I'm not. But I've got Frodo now.' He smiled down at his nephew, who grinned back at him, before launching into a series of questions about Erebor to the boys. Bilbo then moved to talk with the rest of the Company properly, with many more hugs and head-bashing. Bombur and his wife had had another child, while Glóin's son Gimli had grown into a fine lad with a beard to rival his father's and was taking axe lessons from the master himself, Dwalin.

In the corner of his eye Bilbo could see Thorin; he tried to ignore the way the flickering candlelight made the dwarf look younger, turning his hair as black as it had been before the stress of their quest and smoothing out the lines that had imprinted on his face.

When Frodo began to yawn, no matter how quickly he tried to stifle them before Bilbo could notice, Bilbo insisted on taking Frodo to bed, and Dís and Balin showed him the way to their bedchamber where their packs had already been deposited, while Bilbo led a heavy-footed Frodo along until it was quicker to just carry him. When he said goodnight to Dís and Balin at the door of their chamber he was unsure if he should be relieved that Thorin wasn't there, or disappointed... But he irritably pushed those thoughts away (this was getting _silly _now!) as he concentrated on getting a sleepy Frodo into his night clothes and into bed.

The lad tried to protest weakly - 'it's only just gone seven!' - but when his yawn lasted for a good ten seconds he stopped arguing and leant back into the pillows among the furs, especially when Bilbo curled up in the large bed with him.

It was cold under the mountain and soon Frodo was pressing his icy feet against Bilbo's legs in an attempt to warm them, making Bilbo jump at the contact.

'You cheeky rascal,' Bilbo chuckled affectionately, ruffling Frodo's hair before pulling the boy closer and simply holding him as Frodo's breathing slowed and evened out, feet still pressed to Bilbo's legs. Bilbo looked down at his nephew in the light from the lone, flickering candle, and saw the faint shine of Frodo's eyes as he blinked.

'Uncle Bilbo, what did Mr Thorin say to you that made you smile so much?' Frodo piped up, his voice quiet in the dark room.

'What? Oh. Just that he and the others were glad I was back.'

'He's missed you, Uncle. He looked so happy to see you again.'

Bilbo sat up and looked at his nephew incredulously; he could just see Frodo's outline in the low light, swamped as he was by blankets. 'Honestly, Frodo, how _d__o _you - actually, never mind.' He shook his head and lay back down, unresisting when Frodo nestled against him. But Frodo's words echoed in his mind - really, when had Frodo become so observant? He'd already seen through Bilbo once before and now he supposedly saw through Thorin. It was impressive, if disconcerting but not altogether surprising - Primula had always been able to tell when Bilbo was lying, although it was usually about whether or not he'd nabbed one of her biscuits.

The candle slowly flickered out and Bilbo pulled Frodo closer to him before he fell asleep. No doubt the next few days - weeks - were going to be trying, especially as it appeared Fíli and Kíli had not grown up at all in the six years he'd not seen them; and if how emotionally drained Bilbo was feeling then was any indication, the next few weeks of seeing Thorin would also be exhausting. He may as well get what sleep he could.

And in fact, on his first night after months of travelling that he didn't need to be up early the next morning preparing or leaving, Bilbo was able to sleep soundly. He slept like a log that night, peacefully and deeply, if full of dreams of Thorin.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** **Yes, um... my muse ran away and I wrote a 10,000 word chapter. I hope you enjoy this one, full of Bilbo being awkward! :3**

* * *

**_3 DAYS UNTIL THE SOLSTICE_**

Bilbo was woken the next morning by what must have been by dwarf standards a _soft _knocking at the door, but it was loud enough to wake him and he quickly glanced down at Frodo, who was mercifully still asleep. Quickly he got up and pulled on the thick jumper he'd brought (his dressing gown had just been too big to pack, unfortunately) and went to answer the door.

It was straight out of a memory - Fíli and Kíli stood at the door, matching grins, just like they had six years ago.

'Morning, Bilbo!' they piped up a little too loudly.

'Good morning, boys,' he said, wincing as their voices pierced the air and he worried about Frodo waking up. The lad had had so much excitement these past few days and he really needed to rest - soft padding footsteps behind him put paid to those thoughts and he sighed as Frodo appeared beside him.

'Hello,' the lad said simply.

'Good morning,' Fíli grinned at him. 'Bilbo, Uncle Thorin wanted us to tell you that breakfast will be served soon, in the same dining room as yesterday-'

'We're to show you the way-' Kíli undercut his brother.

'And you can discuss plans for today over breakfast. But he wanted us to stress that he would in no way be offended -'

'-Although we know he'd be a bit disappointed-'

'-If you wished to breakfast here alone this morning.'

Bilbo just stared at them for a moment while their words sank in. Had they always done that?

'Erm, well, I think we'll join you, won't we, Frodo? Just give us a moment to dress, alright?' Fíli and Kíli nodded and Bilbo let them in before grabbing his and Frodo's clothes and pulling Frodo into the bathroom behind him.

As he dressed Frodo, Bilbo kept up a litany of rules and information which Frodo probably forgot as soon as it registered, but it didn't stop Bilbo talking.

'Now remember, Frodo-' he tugged off Frodo's nightshirt and helped him do up his thick cream winter shirt '- Fíli and Kíli are Princes, even if they may not behave live it. Fíli will be king after Thorin so remember to be respectful.' He helped Frodo pull on his breeches. 'And remember your manners, Frodo Baggins! Call everyone "Mister" - or "Miss" - unless they tell you otherwise, alright? Except for Thorin, who you address as "Your Highness"-'

'But you just call him Thorin,' Frodo pointed out as he attached his braces.

Bilbo paused. 'Well, that's because I know him rather well.' He continued pulling Frodo's weskit on, the smart blue one he'd worn in Dale. 'Oh, and Frodo?'

'Yes, Uncle?' Frodo sounded bemused.

'Please, for Yavanna's sake, don't get into whatever mischief Fíli and Kíli might be plotting. Those two are even worse than your Brandybuck cousins on a roll when they've the mind for it.'

'Yes, uncle Bilbo, I promise!' Frodo smiled, and Bilbo pulled him in for a hug.

'Now, let me get dressed and we'll go and get some breakfast.' He let Frodo out to join the boys before dressing himself as quickly as possible while still looking presentable. He wore a crimson waistcoat with silk detailing and his shirt was of thick, pure white linen. He ran a hand through his unruly curls as he looked at himself in the small mirror, before shaking his head. He wasn't trying to impress anybody; he was here to celebrate the Solstice with his friends and that was _all._

When satisfied with his appearance he stepped out of the bathroom and was relieved to find Fíli and Kíli sitting on chairs with nothing broken - at least, nothing he could immediately see.

'Right then. Shall we go?' he asked. The boys jumped up and Frodo moved to take his hand. Fíli and Kíli were practically bouncing up and down with energy as they spoke to Bilbo, updating him on everything that hadn't been told the evening before. There was so much that had happened over six years and it saddened Bilbo to think he'd only heard of it through words on a page.

The corridors were busy with maids carrying piles of sheets and clean clothes and furs, and some with buckets of water and mops and brushes. There were a few pageboys in the dark blue livery carrying scrolls of thick parchment which looked incredibly important and official.

The halls were all also decorated with glittering jewels containing a small candle, and no matter how many he saw Bilbo still marvelled at the beauty.

Soon they reached the dining room and everyone except Bombur and Glóin were there - they were with their families for the morning meal. Bilbo's heart skipped painfully again when Thorin gestured for Bilbo to sit next to him again, but if Frodo noticed his uncle's slightly tighter grip on his hand he didn't say anything.

'I trust that you slept well?' Thorin asked when they were seated, Frodo on Bilbo's other side.

'Oh yes, very well, thank you,' Bilbo said with a smile, _not _thinking of the fact his dreams had been full of the dwarf sitting next to him; it wouldn't do to dwell on such thoughts when Thorin was _right there..._

When the food was served Bilbo was sufficiently distracted - until Thorin began speaking to him.

'I've been reliably informed by Balin that my workload for the next few days is surprisingly light,' he said.

Bilbo looked up and really noticed Thorin's beard for the first time - it had been unadorned last night and in the shadow he hadn't really noticed it, but this morning he wore a single silver bead with tiny emeralds and peridots adorning it. Bilbo couldn't deny that it suited him and he'd be lying if he said that it wasn't also remarkably attractive...

'Oh?' he said. 'That's nice.' That was all he could get out while he tried to ignore the thoughts going around in his head that wondered what that beard would feel like on his face as Thorin- _Nope._

'It is,' Thorin agreed. 'It means I have time to properly attend to my guests, in the manner they deserve.' His voice was soft, so soft, and Bilbo found it increasingly difficult to focus on his food. _Oh Yavanna... _As the words sounded in his head he wondered if his prayers to the Green Lady were going unheard because they couldn't travel through all this _rock. _He thought he'd almost prefer it if Thorin was the reserved, almost aloof dwarf he'd been on their quest - at least Bilbo could put away these thoughts once and for all. But when he was being so nice...it made it incredibly difficult to keep those thoughts where they should be - _hidden_.

Bilbo smiled and managed to look Thorin in the eye. 'That would be lovely,' he said.

Thorin's eyes crinkled in a smile of his own, the years dropping off him, and he turned back to his food. 'After all, you have not seen the market yet and the Solstice festivities will be upon us soon. You must be part of the preparations for that, and I'm sure you and Frodo both would like to sample Erebor's festive delicacies!'

Bilbo chuckled. 'Indeed, Thorin. You haven't forgotten the appetites of a hobbit, then.'

'Of course not. I remember everything about you.' Bilbo froze and Thorin looked mortified, and hastily backtracked. 'I mean, I couldn't exactly forget when you were complaining about the weather, or the ponies, or the meagre rations every hour of every day, could I?'

Bilbo was indignant. 'I did not! At least not _all _the time,' he said, affronted. 'And all _you _could talk about was honour and the gold.'

'That's not true! I worried about the supplies, and about our Company-'

Bilbo snorted and Thorin scowled for a moment before he started laughing - a deep, full-bellied laugh Bilbo had only heard a few times and which he only realised he'd missed when he heard it again now. At the sound he started laughing too, chuckles falling unchecked from his mouth in his mirth.

'Look at us, Bilbo,' Thorin said, once he'd stopped laughing enough to speak. 'Are we really arguing about what happened six years ago?'

'You started it,' Bilbo pointed out as he wiped a tear from his eye, his heart feeling inexplicably lighter. Thorin nodded in acknowledgment of this fact, before he picked up his goblet and held it out to Bilbo.

'Your good health, Master Baggins, and continued good cheer here with us.'

Bilbo lightly tapped his glass against Thorin's, smiling up into the dwarf's blue eyes and stomach back-flipping and jumping all over the place.

'And to yours, Master Oakenshield,' he said, taking a sip of his mead. It was sweet and refreshing and somehow tasted even better for the smile of Thorin's aimed at him.

When breakfast was over Thorin asked if Bilbo and Frodo would like to see the city centre and the markets. Bilbo looked at Frodo, whose expression of wide eyes said that he could hardly contain his excitement.

'I think that's a yes,' Bilbo said, smiling.

And so it was that an hour later, Bilbo had gone back to their chamber to fetch himself and Frodo a jacket. When he re-joined them, Frodo was already laughing with Fíli and Kíli and Thorin was watching them with a small smile playing on his face. He smiled at Bilbo when he saw him and Bilbo returned it before turning to Frodo and coaxing him into his jacket. He buttoned it up for him and whispered, 'Remember what I said before?'

Frodo nodded and Bilbo pressed a soft kiss to Frodo's forehead before straightening up, and then they were off. Balin was busy attending to the paperwork of the Kingdom to allow Thorin a few days off (Balin had once written to Bilbo that Thorin didn't stop and quite often his sister had to bully him into taking a break) while the others returned to their work and Dís declined meaning it was only Bilbo, Frodo and the male Durins who made up the party as they left the royal quarters.

It grew colder as they left those quarters behind, as the corridors became wider and larger and eventually gave way to great, cavernous halls.

They heard the market before they saw it, a great cacophony of voices and banging and laughing as a city went about its business. When they arrived, Bilbo and Frodo could only gape. The market was also decorated for the Solstice, but it was the dwarves' version of a Yule tree which was so different to everything they'd ever known that attracted their attention most.

In the centre of the market was a huge, gigantic stalactite hanging down from the ceiling. There were little rivulets of mithril, gold and silver running through the stone, delicate lines mapped out across the rock, and all manner of gems embedded in it too. It was captivating and enrapturing and Bilbo thought he could look at it for hours and still find new things in its pattern.

'It's... It's amazing,' he finally said, still lost for words.

'You'll have to tell Bofur that,' Fíli said.

'Bofur?'

'At the beginning of every year they start growing the stalactite and decorating it, and this year Bofur was in charge.'

Bilbo returned to looking at the stalactite, shaking his head at the sheer skill and beauty of it.

'Now, I think there's something much more important for young hobbits to see,' Kíli said, grinning. 'I think a visit to Mín's stall is in order!'

Fíli's eyes widened, nodding as he grinned.

'What's at Mín's stall?' Frodo asked curiously.

'You'll have to wait and see,' Fíli said. 'Bilbo? Uncle? Could we take Frodo?'

Thorin looked at Bilbo, who asked, 'what does she sell?' Thorin leaned forward to mutter the answer into Bilbo's ear, his beard tickling the slightly pointed tip, and Bilbo tried not to shiver. But the answer satisfied him so he nodded, before bending down to Frodo's eye level.

'Remember what I told you this morning, lad?' he said quietly, pulling Frodo's jacket tighter about him. Frodo nodded, but Bilbo could feel the eagerness in his frame so he looked Frodo in the eye. '_Promise_ me, Frodo, not to do anything silly, alright?'

Frodo must have heard the sincerity in Bilbo's voice, as he leant forward to press a kiss to Bilbo's cheek. 'I promise, Uncle.'

Bilbo nodded and stood up. 'Alright then. Off you go. But boys-' he looked specifically at Fíli and Kíli here '-not too much and nothing silly.'

The Princes only nodded, and when they turned and scampered off, Fíli with a tight hold on Frodo's hand, Bilbo wondered at the wisdom of sending a young hobbit child in the company of two playful dwarves to a _sweet _stall, of all things.

'He will be fine, I'm sure of it,' Thorin said from beside him, and Bilbo reluctantly looked away from staring at the crowd where he'd seen Frodo and the boys disappear into the masses of dwarves and looked at Thorin.

_Oh Valar, _he was alone with Thorin now. Bilbo's stomach knotted as he realised this fact and he hastily stopped himself staring at Thorin's mouth when the dwarf frowned.

'Are you feeling alright, Bilbo?' he asked gently, and Bilbo knew he was blushing.

'I'm fine, I'm just - worrying about Frodo, that's all,' he said quickly, turning back to look at the crowds to hide his warm cheeks.

'I understand, Bilbo. I am an uncle too - I raised Fíli and Kíli just as you do Frodo; I know what it is to fear for your child. But he will be safe here with the boys, I promise.' Thorin's voice was deep and low, but Bilbo pushed away those observations so that he could look Thorin in the eye.

'Thank you, Thorin,' he said and offered a small smile, which Thorin returned.

Then Thorin clapped a hand on Bilbo's shoulder. 'Now, while our nephews discover the delights of the sweet shop, there's something I must show _you_. You've had coffee before but you've never had _Ereborean _coffee before, have you?' A look of boyish excitement was on Thorin's face as he led Bilbo down an avenue of stalls until they reached one which did admittedly smell divine. The lady at the stall bowed low when she saw Thorin and nodded respectfully at Bilbo, and then Thorin was ordering two cups of the Solstice blend coffee. Bilbo fidgeted while they waited - which thankfully wasn't too long, and soon Thorin was handing Bilbo a cup of the hot, strong beverage.

Bilbo breathed in the smell. It was spicy and earthy all at once and when Bilbo tasted it his eyes widened in surprise. Thorin laughed at his expression, and when Bilbo had swallowed he asked, 'What do you put in it? It's amazing!'

Thorin grinned. 'The usual - cinnamon, cloves. But it's a secret recipe and you know how secretive we dwarves are. But it will not be a problem to supply you with some when the time comes for...' he trailed off. 'Are you hungry?' he asked suddenly. 'There's an excellent pastry stall just down here...'

He quickly changed direction to lead Bilbo down another row of stalls and the one Thorin stopped at did look heavenly, with all sorts of pies and tartlets and biscuits and Bilbo couldn't make a decision.

'You decide for me,' he said desperately to Thorin, who did so and bought two spiced pumpkin tartlets which, along with the coffee, was one of the most delicious things Bilbo had ever tasted.

They continued to wander around the market for a while, Thorin asking Bilbo all about what he'd done in the last six years. Bilbo reckoned it must all be rather dull to Thorin, who had obviously dealt with more than just petty neighbourly squabbles and harvests and summer fairs. When Bilbo told him how he'd travelled to Rivendell again a year after he'd returned home, Thorin wrinkled his nose in a way that reminded Bilbo so forcefully of Frodo that he couldn't help but laugh.

'So you're still not on good terms with the elves?' he asked, chuckling at the bemused look on Thorin's face.

'Oh, we're on good terms - sort of. But just because we're political allies now and aren't at each other's throats doesn't mean I have to _like _them. I still think they're poncy, snooty, stuck-up -'

'Yes, alright, thank you!' Bilbo interrupted, and Thorin laughed. They stopped in a quieter area of the market and sat on the raised bench there, Bilbo swinging his feet as he couldn't quite reach the floor. As they sat there together Bilbo felt a deep contentment, and at ease with Thorin by his side. The dwarf had changed (well, mostly) and Bilbo didn't fear him like he had at the start of their quest - instead he feared Thorin would find out all the inappropriate things going round in Bilbo's head as he felt Thorin's warm bulk beside him and which he desperately pushed away.

Then Thorin stood up, and before Bilbo could bemoan the loss of the comforting warmth beside him Thorin was offering him a hand up, which Bilbo gratefully if a little hesitantly took - he didn't regret it when Thorin's hand, warm and calloused from years of work, closed around his own much smaller one.

Thorin looked around. 'I suppose we should go and find the boys now. They've had plenty of time to sample Mín's wares by now.'

Straightening his jacket Bilbo agreed, and followed Thorin once more through the maze of stalls. The one which Thorin led him to was manned by a dark-haired lady who looked about Thorin's age or slightly older, judging by the grey in her hair.

'Good morning Mín,' Thorin greeted her, and she bowed back.

'Morning, your Highness.'

'I don't suppose you've seen my nephews, have you?' he asked. He seemed to know her, if not well then at least more than mere acquaintances and Bilbo wondered how many times Fíli and Kíli had sweet talked their uncle into letting them visit her stall as children.

'The boys? Aye, they were here an hour ago with another little lad in tow - although he weren't a dwarf or my beard's not brown.'

'Yes, that would be my friend Bilbo's nephew-' Thorin gestured to Bilbo, and Mín quickly inclined her head to him '- they're hobbits from the Shire.'

'Ah. Well that'd explain the feet. And look, they nearly bought me out, the rascals.' Her stall did look surprisingly sparse, considering it was still only the morning.

'Do you know where they went, please, Mín?' Thorin asked.

'They headed off to the Square - said they was going to show the little lad the Solstice Stalactite.'

Thorin nodded in thanks and then turned and set off at a brisk pace, Bilbo trotting along behind him. He wasn't worried, not yet, but he had tensed up at Thorin's determined stride.

The stalactite was even more impressive up close, now he could see the veins of metals running just under the surface as well as those on the outside, and the individual gems winked in the light.

But there was no sign of Frodo, Fíli or Kíli.

Bilbo's heart jumped into his mouth. Frodo wasn't there. Where was he? Bilbo's heart started thumping wildly, and blood rushed to his ears and he could hear his frantic heartbeat pounding in his eardrums. He forced himself to breathe, to stay calm, and looked at Thorin.

'They're not here,' he said slowly, looking at Thorin. 'Why aren't they here?'

Thorin was staring around him, trying to see if they were at any of the nearby stalls. Bilbo joined him too, peering around desperately, but he saw no sign of his nephew or the princes.

He started mumbling to himself, a litany of ramblings as he muttered to himself but which grew steadily louder. 'What if they're hurt? What if they've got lost - no, they can't be lost. What if Frodo's hurt and they can't get help? What if they've been taken-'

Strong hands on his shoulders made him stop, staring up at Thorin's wide eyes. 'Bilbo, stop. They will be _fine_. Fíli and Kíli know what they're doing-'

'But Frodo doesn't!' Bilbo hissed, to avoid catching the attention of the nearby customers. 'Frodo is just a little hobbit in this huge place and he might be hurt somewhere!'

Thorin nodded but said in a soothing manner, 'Bilbo, I know you're worried, but-'

'You gave me your word he'd be safe! You promised!' Bilbo could feel panic and fear setting in.

'And I keep my word, Bilbo! I promised you Frodo would be safe and safe he will be. _Trust me_,' he said, his voice rising in anger and his gaze even more piercing than usual.

'You think you can ask that of me after what you _did_, just because _you've _forgotten it?' Bilbo spat, venomously. He was being unfair and he knew it, especially as Thorin's hands dropped to his side and Bilbo saw the hurt in his eyes, before they hardened to glass sapphires.

'Think what you will of me, Mr Baggins, but I will find your nephew and he will be fine. I give you my word, though it is your choice whether to take it or not.'

His voice was cold and hard and Bilbo felt shame worm its way into his core. 'Thorin, I'm-'

But Thorin turned on his heel and headed off, stalking through the crowds. Bilbo immediately set off after him, having to jog a little on his smaller legs. He managed to keep up fairly well, however, and at one point managed to grab hold of Thorin's coat. The dwarf froze as Bilbo stood clutching at the fur-lined garment, breathing heavily.

'Honestly, you _stubborn _dwarf-'

'Please let go of my coat, Mr Baggins.' Thorin's voice was wooden and he didn't look at Bilbo.

'No, not if you keep calling me that. I'm Bilbo and I'm _sorry_, Thorin. I didn't mean to say that but I was panicking-'

'But you still thought it, even if you didn't mean to say it.'

'Now you're twisting my words. I meant - oh, Yavanna's sake!' He irritably let go of Thorin's coat and the dwarf haughtily straightened it on his shoulder before turning round to face Bilbo. 'Thorin, I'm sorry I said that and I didn't mean it. I _do _trust you.'

Thorin looked a little pacified but he kept his arms crossed over his body. 'Thank you, Bilbo. Now, Fíli and Kíli are likely to have wanted to show Frodo something, so knowing them it was to do with food-'

'Your Highness!' A shout rang out and a pageboy in the deep blue livery of Durin's line appeared before them, slightly out of breath. 'Your Majesty, a message from the Lady Dís. She wants you to know that Master Bombur found your nephews and the hobbit-lad in the royal kitchens. He took them to her and they are with her in her chamber if you wish to speak to them.'

Thorin nodded and the pageboy scurried away. Bilbo sank with relief, before embarrassment replaced it, flooding his limbs as he thought about how useless and panicky he'd been, and how horrid to Thorin. He hadn't been that easily frightened while on their quest - but then, he hadn't had a little hobbitling to look after then. He felt Thorin sag beside him and heard the gust of breath he expelled before he felt Thorin's gaze on him. Squaring his shoulders he turned to meet his gaze.

'Before you say anything-'

'I wasn't going to say anything,' Thorin interrupted.

'You weren't?' Bilbo said, taken aback a little.

'No.' There was an awkward silence for a minute. 'Now I think it's time I had a chat with those nephews of mine.'

He turned and started walking, looking behind to make sure Bilbo was following. He was, and he hurriedly kept up with Thorin so that he could see Frodo. Oh, he was going to give that boy a talking to; but it was Fíli and Kíli the majority of his irritation was aimed at for taking Frodo away without consulting them.

When they reached Dís' chambers, they found her sitting by the fire in her ante-chamber with Frodo on her lap while Fíli and Kíli sat quietly on wooden chairs at the back and they cringed when Thorin walked in.

'Frodo!' Bilbo held out his arms and Frodo immediately left Dís' lap, running into Bilbo's waiting embrace. 'I was so worried about you,' Bilbo whispered into Frodo's curls as he held him tightly and no, he was _not _crying... Well, just a little, but he swiftly wiped the tear away.

Frodo had reached around to fist his hand gently in the curls at the nape of Bilbo's neck, a gesture he seemed to do when he wanted comfort and Bilbo had learnt soon after he moved in that it was a sure way to comfort the lad. Bilbo could only assume it was something Drogo or Prim had done when he was small.

'Are you cross, Uncle?' he said quietly. 'Please don't be cross.'

'It's alright, Frodo. I'm not cross at you,' he said, stroking Frodo's cheek gently. 'But it was very irresponsible of the boys to take you away from the market without telling us, especially after you promised not to do anything silly.'

He gave Frodo a sharp look and the lad bowed his head. He stayed like that for a moment before looking up at him again, eyes wide. 'It was fun though.'

Bilbo chuckled weakly at that. 'I'm sure it was, but you scared me. Next time you go running off, _tell _me.'

'Oh, but Uncle, you should have seen the kitchens! There was so much food, and Fíli and Kíli showed me something-'

'Alright, Frodo, are you better now?' Dís interrupted. Bilbo looked up and Dís smiled at him; Bilbo saw that the chairs Fíli and Kíli had been occupying were now empty and they and Thorin were nowhere to be seen.

'Where are the boys?' he asked as he straightened up from his crouch.

'Thorin is talking with them,' she said. 'And I'm sorry they put you through such worry, Bilbo, really.'

'Oh, well, no harm done. We're both fine,' Bilbo said, suddenly feeling very bad for Fíli and Kíli, on the receiving end of Thorin's anger. He'd had only a taste of it earlier, and the fact Thorin had taken the boys away to tell them off made Bilbo cringe. 'He's not being too harsh on them, is he? I mean, it's really alright...' Bilbo said, and Dís just smiled.

'Don't worry, Bilbo. They'll be fine. I think he's mostly cross that they made you upset, more than anything.'

'Oh. Oh, well that's...' Bilbo trailed off, unsure what to say.

'Would you like some tea?' Dís offered, and Bilbo accepted gratefully. Dís rang a bell and a servant appeared; she asked for a pot of tea to be brought up and then went about making Bilbo and Frodo at home, taking Bilbo's jacket from him and giving them chairs by the fire. Thorin was so long in berating his nephews that Bilbo had finished one cup of tea (and the plate of biscuits was nearly gone, between himself and Frodo) and Balin had even arrived and joined them, before Thorin stepped back into the room with two very apologetic young dwarves following.

'We're so sorry, Bilbo,' Fíli said.

'We honestly didn't mean to scare you like that,' Kíli added.

'We just didn't think,' Fíli admitted, mumbling at the floor.

'Six years on and they still haven't got any better at that ' Thorin said from his corner of the room, where he sat on a plush sofa. The boys had the grace to look embarrassed at that, but Bilbo frowned slightly. They weren't that bad, and Thorin's dark brooding expression was off-putting. It was all alright now so surely he could just _lighten up_ for once?

He hadn't realised he'd spoken that out loud until silence fell and Frodo looked up at him, eyes wide. Everyone's eyes were trained on him and he felt himself flushing as crimson as his jacket. He should probably have tried to apologise, and he did - but too late, because Thorin stood up in a graceful movement Bilbo would have thought was more suited to the elves.

His voice was biting when he spoke. 'Please excuse me, my presence appears to be ruining the mood.' And then he was striding out of the room, not looking back, and Bilbo was left with burning ears and embarrassment boiling in his insides. He couldn't believe he'd been so tactless - Thorin had been relaxed earlier, when he'd bought him coffee and pastries and they'd talked; trust Bilbo to ruin it like that.

'Don't worry about it, lad. Thorin is...prone to mood swings like that,' Balin said. Bilbo nodded mutely but it didn't make him feel any better. He always had a way of putting his over-large foot in it, didn't he? And it wasn't even lunchtime yet.

No one seemed to be angry at him for offending Thorin (indeed, Dís seemed to be looking at him with amusement) so Bilbo gradually relaxed a little, but the knots of guilt in his stomach didn't loosen at all and instead they seemed to tighten, constricting his breathing, when Thorin didn't turn up to lunch. The chair next to Bilbo remained empty and guilt remained heavy in his gut even as he tried to laugh along with the others as Óin told funny anecdotes and Dori described difficult customers at his tailor's shop. At that Dori suddenly paused, an 'Oh!' of remembrance on his lips, and he quickly rummaged through the satchel under his chair.

'This is for you, Bilbo. I made it before you arrived so we might have to adjust it a little-' Bilbo looked down at his once again hobbit-shaped stomach '-but it shouldn't be difficult.' With that Dori passed him a jacket, dwarvish in style and lined with thick, warm fur. It was stunning, the material made out in the maroon colour he was so fond of with gold thread detailing. Bilbo was overwhelmed by the gift and he switched his hobbit-jacket for the new one immediately (it didn't close, but Dori took it back after lunch to make the necessary adjustments, and he said it would be ready the day after tomorrow.)

'I could make one for Frodo too,' he offered, smiling at the lad. Dori had a soft spot for children after helping to raise Ori from a toddling dwarfling. 'What's your favourite colour?'

He pulled out a sample of little squares of fabric and Frodo eventually chose, after much deliberation, a rich green the colour of reeds on a riverbank. He was practically bouncing with excitement when Dori said it could be ready at the same time as Bilbo's.

When lunch was over Bilbo accepted Dís' offer of a tour around parts of Erebor, and it took his breath away at times. The grandeur and the sheer scale of it all were simply astounding, and Frodo too was speechless more often than not. They continued this way until dinner, which Thorin was again absent from. Balin said simply that something important had come up which Thorin had to deal with, but again Bilbo felt terrible.

Eventually it was time to put Frodo to bed and Bilbo settled him down, lying next to him on the bed and smoothing circles on the lad's palm until he fell asleep. When he was certain that Frodo was under and wouldn't be waking up any time soon, he quickly stole out of the room, locking the door behind him, and set off.

It was late but not overly so and he could hear the noise of maids and guards going about their business. Bilbo wasn't exactly sure where he was going so he stopped to ask a couple of maids who pointed him in the right direction until eventually he reached Thorin's chambers. He knew it was Thorin's because there were two guards stationed outside, heavily armed and scowling.

Bilbo almost lost his courage then in the face of their dark glares, but he couldn't in all conscience sleep easy until he had apologised to Thorin. So he stepped firmly up to the guards and asked, in a voice steadier than he really felt, if His Majesty was in.

'His Highness doesn't wish to be disturbed.'

'Could you tell him it's me - Bilbo Baggins? Tell him I need to apo-'

'He doesn't wish to be disturbed,' the same guard said, voice still devoid of any inflection.

'Well, really!' Bilbo was just gearing up to get very angry indeed, when the door opened and Thorin stood there. The guards stood immediately to attention, straightening up even further and saluting Thorin.

'Your Majesty, we were just telling this gentleman here that you didn't-'

'Yes, I heard,' Thorin said. 'But it's alright, Darin. I'll see Mr Baggins,' Thorin said, his voice quiet but authoritative in a way only he could be. The guards nodded and Thorin turned back to his ante-chamber. Bilbo quickly followed, the door shutting behind them. Thorin stood by the fire, his face in shadow as his profile was silhouetted against the flames. There was an awkward silence now, as Bilbo tried to find the words.

'Thorin, I came here to say sorry. I really am sorry for what I said, I didn't mean it and it was unfair to you. I'm sorry.' Bilbo looked at Thorin pleadingly, sincerely, but he couldn't see Thorin's expression. Thorin moved over to a chair and sat down, facing Bilbo.

'Your tongue is still as sharp as ever, then, I see,' Thorin remarked. 'Seeing as you have managed to argue with me twice and insult me all on your first day.'

If Bilbo had looked at Thorin, he would have seen the small, wry smile on his face; but he didn't, and instead he bristled in indignation. He didn't like the way he felt like a hobbitling being told off for being bad and at the same time Thorin's impressively back-lit figure was still there, clear in his memory and it was distracting.

'Well I'm _sorry_, but it's not my fault you're-' Bilbo stopped, having an internal struggle with himself as one half of him wanted to shout _too attractive for your own good _and the other, (marginally) saner half tried to override the other half and say _you're the one who started it._

As it was, the battling sides came to an agreement and Bilbo ended up shouting, '_so irritating!'_

Thorin was immediately cold again. He stood up, walking slowly towards Bilbo and looming over him. 'Well, you didn't have to come and stay with us if our presence is so _disagreeable _to you-'

Bilbo's voice was rising in frustration. 'It's just _you_ who - who -'

'Who _what?' _Thorin was nearly shouting, his voice matching Bilbo's loudness without even trying.

Unfortunately for Bilbo, when he got angry his emotions ruled his words as his brain shut down, so his next words were ones he regretted as soon as he spoke them. 'Who's just so _arrogant _and aloof all the time until it suits you - when you're suddenly all _charming _and _nice _and it's-'

The sound of a door opening startled them and Bilbo immediately shut up. Both of them turned to see Dís in the doorway, looking at them with a raised eyebrow. Bilbo felt himself flush scarlet, and the smug smile on Thorin's face just made him all the more discomfited.

'I'm sorry, I'm interrupting something,' Dís said and began to back out of the door.

'It's alright, I was just _leaving_,' Bilbo muttered, straightening his jacket and storming towards to the door. Dís moved out of his way and then Bilbo rushed quickly back to his own chambers and slipped into bed next to Frodo before he addressed the burning in his cheeks and the fierce embarrassment flowing through every inch of his body.

Oh _Yavanna... _That hadn't gone to plan. That hadn't gone to plan _at all. _He squeezed his eyes shut but all he could see was the smug quirk of Thorin's lips as Bilbo had said _that_ and dammit but the man was just too attractive! He let out a groan of frustration and kept his eyes resolutely open, counting the little gems embedded in his wall until he finally fell asleep.

* * *

**_2 DAYS UNTIL THE SOLSTICE_**

Bilbo didn't sleep well that night and he woke the next morning with his head feeling muzzy and a deep burning embarrassment still flitting through his veins. But he made himself ignore it and instead ran a bath while he waited for Frodo to wake. When the lad did wake, full of energy, Bilbo managed to eventually get him into the bath and Frodo let himself be washed and scrubbed by his uncle. Bilbo found it easier to forget the events of last night if he kept busy so he focused on getting Frodo clean. Then it was his turn and he hurried through his morning ablutions while Frodo pottered around their chamber.

It was breakfast time then and as yesterday, Fíli and Kíli arrived at the door to show Bilbo to the dining room. Bilbo gave an internal groan when he saw Thorin sitting at the table, and he couldn't refuse his sit next to the dwarf without being rude (and after everything, Bilbo thought that perhaps it would just be easier to sit through this one meal than risk another argument).

So reluctantly he took his seat and breakfast was served. For the most part Bilbo just focused on his food and resolutely ignored the dwarf beside him, instead helping Frodo not to spill egg down his clean shirt. But then Thorin was asking him what his plans were for the day.

'I - I'm not sure,' Bilbo replied, looking at Thorin before quickly looking away, but to his relief the dwarf wasn't reminding him of last night and had either forgotten or was ignoring it, so Bilbo relaxed infinitesimally.

'Fíli and I have got lessons today, and Frodo might like to join us,' Kíli piped up.

'They're the _fun _kind of lessons,' Fíli reassured Frodo, who looked uncertain at the use of the word "lesson".

'So close to the Solstice?' Bilbo asked. 'Don't you get a holiday?'

'Well, we have to be continually improving,' Fíli said. 'We can't rest on our laurels.'

Bilbo narrowed his eyes. 'What _sort_ of "lessons" do you have today?'

Kíli gave an impish grin. 'Weaponry.'

Bilbo huffed. 'I knew it. The answer is no - absolutely not! Frodo is not going anywhere near weapons, _especially_ not if those weapons are being handled by _you two!'_

'Well, thank you for that vote of confidence,' Kíli said indignantly.

Fíli just grinned. 'It's alright, Bilbo, really! We don't actually have weapons practice today. No, Mother's roped us into helping her decorate so we thought Frodo would like to help us!'

Bilbo sighed a little and laughed. Decorating was definitely preferable to sword fighting. 'Frodo? Would you like to help the lads and Lady Dís?'

Frodo was looking at him, his expression saying _do you even need to ask?_ Bilbo just pressed a kiss to his hair and raised his hands in defeat. 'Alright! But be _careful._ And you two - don't do anything silly!' He looked at them pointedly and they nodded.

'Don't worry. If Dís is there those two won't dare to misbehave,' Thorin said from beside Bilbo as he spread butter on his toast. 'Dís could instil the fear of Mahal into Mahal himself.'

Bilbo wasn't sure whether to laugh or not, so he ended up making a choked snuffling sound and could have kicked himself afterwards. 'I'll try not to get into her bad books then,' he said, trying to cover it up.

'That would be wise.' Thorin looked at him with his piercing blue eyes and suddenly Bilbo's toast couldn't have been more interesting as he fiddled with it without actually eating it. Frodo leaned up to whisper something into Bilbo's ear, who then froze for a second before quickly berating Frodo.

'Frodo! We don't whisper at the table. It's rude,' he said, giving Frodo a stern look.

'Should I say it out loud then?' Frodo asked cheekily, an intelligent glint in his eyes.

'No you shouldn't, young man! Just...finish your breakfast.' Yavanna forbid that Frodo should repeat his words out loud, especially in the present company, seeing as one dwarf in particular of said present company was supposedly _"looking at Bilbo like Daddy used to look at Mama". _Certainly _not _repeatable.

'I'm full now,' he protested, pushing his plate away.

'We can go now,' Fíli offered. We've got to retrieve the decorations from their usual storeroom anyway before Mother's ready.'

'Alright,' Bilbo agreed. 'Remember, behave,' he said to Frodo. Then he leaned slightly closer and muttered low into his ear, 'And Frodo, don't you go repeating what you said to me.'

Frodo drew away, impish grin on his face. 'No whispering at the table, Uncle!' he said, but he nodded and pressed a kiss to Bilbo's cheek before scampering off to join Fíli and Kíli.

'He really is the sweetest thing,' Dori sighed as Frodo left. 'You used to be that cute once,' he said, turning to Ori. The scribe had now grown into his beard, but he still kept the little mauve ribbon in his braid that he'd had on their journey.

'Dori, please!' Nori said. 'The lad's a hundred years old and Head Librarian; ye don't need to mother 'im no more.'

'You're Head Librarian?' Bilbo asked Ori, who nodded, slightly pink cheeked.

'Of the Royal Library,' he admitted. 'Are you still fond of books, Bilbo? I could show you some of our collections.'

Bilbo felt like a small child being allowed free reign at the toy shop. 'I'd love to, Ori, thank you!' When breakfast was over not too long after, he followed Ori to the royal library. 'I can't believe you didn't tell me you were _Head Librarian_,' Bilbo chuckled. 'The way you put it, it sounded like you had a simple scribe's position.'

'Yes, well, I don't like to boast about it,' Ori said shyly.

They reached a huge set of stone doors - thankfully open, and Bilbo noticed that a lever system was needed to open and close them because of their weight - and Bilbo was in the library. It was a funny room, definitely dwarvish but here and there were little things obviously inspired by other cultures - the decorative book ends on some of the shelves were definitely Mannish and the little round reading room was based on elvish influences. They were near the edge of the mountain as there were large panes of glass in the ceiling which let in the natural daylight, and Bilbo simply stood there for a moment as he enjoyed what little sun managed to reach through the snow drifts that covered the glass.

Ori saw him enjoying the light and smiled. 'All the libraries in the Mountain are built near the edges so that glass windows could be installed,' he explained, 'to let the light in and help with reading. I'm sure you can sympathise!' Bilbo certainly could; he'd done his fair share of reading on winter evenings in his smial surrounded by multiple candles as the light outside failed early.

'Here, because I'm Head I can get access to all the _really_ old stuff,' Ori said, eyes wide with excitement as he led Bilbo through a small doorway to the archives. 'We have copies out there for everyone to use, of course, but some of these scrolls date back to the First Age, and I can only decipher parts of them. This one, for example-' Ori stopped by a shelf and managed to find the scroll he wanted and took it to a small table, holding it reverently, where he smoothed it out for Bilbo to look at '-this one tells of what's called the Nirnaeth Arnoediad in Sindarin - the battle of Unnumbered Tears. Do you know it?'

'I have heard of it, but only vaguely,' Bilbo admitted.

'It was a battle where Men, elves and dwarves all united against the first dark lord, Morgoth,' Ori said, 'in the First Age when Beleriand existed to the west of the Blue Mountains.'

'I bet Thorin loves that,' Bilbo said wryly, at the thought of elves and dwarves uniting in battle.

'Well, seeing as it was ultimately a disaster resulting in the deaths of nearly an entire race, he probably finds it quite a wise moral tale,' Ori chuckled. 'There are others here too - this shelf is all the information we've ever found out about the Petty Dwarves of Beleriand.'

The reverence with which he regarded the scrolls reminded Bilbo of the protectiveness he felt for his own collection of books at home, but his was nothing compared to this!

'Do you know what my favourite part of the collection is?' Ori asked, a small grin on his face. 'The scrolls about hobbits.' Instantly Bilbo perked up at that, and he eagerly asked to see them. 'They make me laugh, these older ones, because of just how wrong they were! This one dwarf wrote an entire history on hobbits and we have it on good authority that he never actually went to the Shire, or indeed ever saw a hobbit.'

Bilbo chuckled at that and Ori pulled down a box full of old scrolls covered in small, spidery runes. 'These are from the Second Age. _"Hobbits are a merry folk fond of food and comfort" - _they got that right, at least - _"they are rather simple creatures, not overly intellectual" - _they obviously hadn't met any like you, Bilbo! - oh, and this is my favourite: _"hobbits do not reproduce in the usual way; instead they grow their young from the earth as they do their potatoes". _'

Bilbo cracked up at that and Ori joined in too, the two of them laughing helplessly with mirth at the poor dwarf who'd dreamt that up. One of the other librarians came in to see what all the noise was, but when he saw Ori he bowed respectfully and quickly hurried away, which just made Bilbo laugh even harder.

'I can assure you, Ori, that that dwarf was as wrong as it's possible to be. Although, it's the comparison to _potatoes _that gets me...'

'Could have been worse. Could have been carrots!'

The morning passed in a whirl of maze-like bookshelves and scroll rooms as Ori gave Bilbo the tour of the library once they'd calmed down, until Bilbo's stomach started grumbling as it neared lunchtime. He'd completely missed elevenses, so he and Ori hurried to the dining room only to be told that lunch was informal and being held in the lady Dís' quarters. Bilbo hoped it wasn't going to be a buffet style, because he always felt as if he should limit what he ate at buffets and he was _hungry_.

He and Ori made their way to Dís' rooms then and she greeted them warmly, offering Bilbo tea while they waited for the others to arrive. Bilbo gratefully accepted the offer before turning round to a sight that made his cheeks heat and his heart leap to his throat.

There on one of Dís' sofas Thorin sat with Frodo on one knee, reading aloud to him from Frodo's book. The book Bilbo had written and illustrated for his nephew while his parents were still alive and which Drogo had always read to him, Bilbo being a close second favourite reader. The fact he was letting Thorin read to him from it...

Thorin seemed to feel his gaze and he looked up and smiled at Bilbo, who suddenly was afraid his knees might give way beneath him. He walked over to the sofa and Frodo looked up at him, grinning from ear to ear.

'Mister Thorin's as good as you at reading to me, Uncle Bilbo,' he said as Bilbo sat down at the other end of the sofa.

'Is he?' Bilbo said weakly, his heart doing strange things in his chest. 'I'll have to make sure you don't start stealing him away at bedtime-' He stopped there because _nononono that sounded suggestive! _Oh Valar, he really wasn't doing very well at this.

Thorin seemed to find it funny and he tried to smother his grin in Frodo's curls, which only made Bilbo feel even more embarrassed.

'Frodo tells me you made this yourself,' Thorin said, gesturing at the book.

'Oh. Well. Yes, I suppose, although I sent it to a specialist book-binder's in Frogmorton so really you should say that_ Mr Fairbanks_ made it, but - yes, I suppose I did,' he finished lamely when he realised he was rambling. When Dís came to present him with a cup of tea he eagerly took it, becoming totally absorbed in the tea ring it left on the saucer and the pattern of light on the surface - anything to avoid looking at Thorin.

'Mister Thorin, continue please!' Frodo said in his most adorably commanding manner, and with a mock sigh Thorin picked up the book and carried on reading about the story of the cat who played the fiddle and the cow who jumped over the moon. As he sat and listened, Bilbo had to admit that Thorin _was _good; in fact, who was he kidding - Thorin was _perfect_, and it was hard not to feel jealous of Frodo as he sat on Thorin's lap, the dwarf's hair hanging over his shoulder and his voice low and expressive in his ear, making Frodo giggle in all the right places.

By the time everyone had arrived Thorin had finished the book and Frodo had migrated to play with Fíli and Kíli, leaving Thorin and Bilbo alone on the sofa. Bilbo was regretting the fact he'd now finished his tea as Thorin spoke to him.

'I never knew you were a writer, Bilbo. Or an artist.'

'Well, I'm not, not really. I just do little things like that, really, just to dabble in it.' Bilbo was flustered and he could feel himself gearing up to ramble again.

'Frodo tells me you wrote about our journey.' Thorin looked at him then, blue eyes locking with his own and pinning him to his seat.

'Yes. Yes, I did,' Bilbo said quietly.

'I'd love to read it,' Thorin said, his voice dropping even lower and becoming even more bewitching, and it was only Dís call for everyone to sit at the table that stopped Bilbo from doing something incredibly silly.

It _was _a sit-down meal, and there was plenty of food to go around, much to Bilbo's delight (but then, he was the guest of dwarves who were not only fond of food themselves but also incredibly aware of hobbit appetites, so he shouldn't be too surprised about that). The only dwarves missing were Bofur and Bifur, who were busy at their toyshop even this close to the Solstice. They arrived towards the end, however, Bofur with an ear-splitting grin on his face. He and Bifur didn't eat but they both accepted coffee.

Bofur sat back in his chair, smug look on his face. 'As we were on our way here we saw the food supplies bein' brought in,' he said, to no one in particular. 'All the sacks an' crates were covered in snow. Aye, lad, it's snowing outside!' he said to Frodo, whose interest had been piqued at the word "snow". Frodo was immediately excited and turned to Bilbo with his big eyes, pleading.

'Oh, Uncle Bilbo, pllease could we go in the snow? I'll wear my jacket and hat and everything,' he said, eliciting a few light chuckles from other members of the gathered company - it seemed a hatred of winter coats and headgear was not the province of solely hobbitlings.

Bilbo wanted to go out to the snow too, the only daylight he'd seen in the past few days the small bit through the snowdrift on the library windows, but he wasn't sure how to get out or where they could go. But before he could answer, Thorin cut in.

'Of course you can. We can all go.' Frodo shot him an excited, eager, grateful look all in one go and started positively quivering with excitement. Various dwarves excused themselves after that, Dori needing to return to his workshop and Bombur to the kitchens, and they were left with Thorin, Dís, Fíli, Kíli, Bofur, Dwalin and Ori. As everyone had finished by then Thorin got up and went to a small cupboard by the door and pulled out two old cloaks and a hat and passed them to Bilbo and Frodo. 'You can wear these, to save you having to go fetch your own. The lads grew out of them some years ago.'

The others were already all dressed in furs and in any case, they didn't seem to feel the cold as easily as the hobbits did, so Bilbo pulled on the coat even as his cheeks flushed red at the way it surely drowned him. Frodo had no such qualms and got his coat on easily enough, yanking the flapped hat down over his ears with an enthusiasm Bilbo had never seen before when it came to Frodo and headgear.

'Now, let us show you one of the perks of our quarters here,' Thorin said when everyone was ready to go, and they left Dís' quarters and followed Thorin through a few corridors until they reached a small flight of steps and a door. Thorin threw it open and a bright, white light hit Bilbo's eyes and out of reflex they shut, but Bilbo recognised that brightness. It was the white of only pure, untouched snow, and when he opened his eyes he saw the heavy, dark grey sky and softly floating snowflakes.

'Welcome to our private garden, if you will,' Thorin said, smiling at the expressions of wonder on Bilbo and Frodo's faces. They all stepped through out into the snow, which crunched in the most satisfying way possible as they stepped in it. Even after fifty-six years of snowfall (minus that one freakishly warm year when he was 22, when it hadn't snowed at all), the sound of virgin snow beneath his feet always sent tingles down Bilbo's spine and elicited a boyish excitement.

The "garden" was huge, built on a flat part of the side of the mountain, with a wall on one side to protect against the wind, and perfect for little hobbitlings to race around in the snow. It didn't take long for it to turn into a full scale snowball fight behind him, though.

Bilbo's attention was soon captured, however, by the beds of winter flowers. He moved closer to have a look, identifying winter heather, evergreen viburnum and smelling the heady scent of a witch hazel bush, among many others. There were brilliant reds and pinks contrasting against the stark white of the snow, and Bilbo was absolutely delighted with it.

Thorin had come to join him, looking pleased at Bilbo's reaction. 'What do you think of the flowers?' he asked, smiling as Bilbo bent to study one bush of bright, cheerful yellow flowers.

'They're absolutely beautiful,' Bilbo enthused. 'These are some of the best specimens I've seen.'

'So I made the right choices then?' Thorin said.

Bilbo froze where he was, crouching down to sniff a flower. 'You chose these?'

'And planted them,' Thorin replied, laughing slightly at the shock on Bilbo's face.

'But I thought dwarves didn't like plants,' Bilbo said. He was being incredibly generalistic there, assuming all dwarves were nature-haters.

'Not all of them, evidently,' Thorin smiled a little. 'But really, I used to come up here to think, when I first became king, but it was bare and unfriendly and not at all conducive to deciding matters of state.' He paused for a moment contemplatively before speaking again. 'If I'm perfectly honest, Bilbo, planting the flowers seemed like a way of making you a little bit closer. You were so fond of flowers and it was...almost wish fulfilment - as if by bringing flowers to Erebor, I could also bring you.'

Thorin had avoided looking at him, but then he turned to him and looked him directly in the eye. 'And it worked, if six years too late.' Thorin gave a small smile which made Bilbo's heart stutter painfully as he stood in shock. Bilbo wasn't sure what to say, what to do-

But then suddenly he wasn't standing by Thorin's side, he was lying sprawled and winded on the snowy ground. A snowball had hit him square on the back, leaving him breathless on the ground - especially when Thorin knelt down next to him as he sat up, snow melting unpleasantly on his neck.

The dwarf looked around and scowled. 'Fíli!'

Fíli stood staring at Bilbo apologetically. 'I'm so sorry, Uncle Bilbo!' And then he clapped his hand over his mouth when he realised what he'd said. Kíli started cackling and Dís was laughing loudly too, but Fíli just looked mortified.

'Oh Mahal, I'm so sorry! It's just, Frodo's been referring to you as "Uncle Bilbo" all morning and then I said it and I didn't mean to, honestly-' Fíli was blabbering as he ran over to help Bilbo up. For his part, Bilbo felt as mortified as Fíli looked - especially as Thorin just took it perfectly in his stride and was even chuckling.

Bilbo felt anger burn a little amongst the embarrassment, at Thorin - he didn't know what to make of his behaviour. One minute confessing that he'd wished Bilbo would return to Erebor pretty much since he left, and then laughing at him the next. Bilbo was confused and wanted so much to believe that what Thorin had said was true... But Thorin didn't let on to what he was feeling other than to place a steadying hand on Bilbo's shoulder as he wobbled once standing up. To hide his inner turmoil, Bilbo simply looked down at the patch of snow where he'd fallen and then back at Thorin.

'Good job I didn't land on the flowers, eh?'

'Yes. That would have been most unfortunate,' he replied, his eyes crinkling up in a most undeniably, absolutely adorable way. Bilbo had to turn away to preserve his sanity; at this rate he'd be completely marbles by the end of Solstice and then he really _would_ be Mad Baggins. The thought was unavoidably depressing.

The snowball fight continued after that, Frodo managing to avoid most of the ones thrown in his direction as he ran around, ducking and weaving with ease. He was laughing and pink cheeked from exertion and cold, and looked like he was having the time of his life. However as the snow turned mushier beneath their feet it also got slippier, and as he dodged one snowball from Kíli he slipped, landing on the ground right on his bottom.

Bilbo immediately rushed to him when he saw Frodo's eyes fill with tears and his bottom lip tremble a little. He scooped him up into a hug and rubbed soothing circles on his back.

'Hey, hey, hey, Frodo, it's alright,' he soothed. 'Don't cry, you're alright.' Frodo nodded against his neck as he made a stellar effort not to cry. Bilbo felt his small frame quiver a little before he calmed down enough, and then he wrapped his little arms around Bilbo's neck.

'Can we go inside now?' he whispered.

His hands were frozen and Bilbo answered in the affirmative, wanting to get him to a fireplace and warmed up before he caught a chill, but he had to prise Frodo off his neck do that he could stand up without falling over.

When he looked up Thorin was right beside him - which gave Bilbo no small fright - with a look of concern on his face. 'Is he alright?' Thorin asked quietly, nodding at the stoically standing Frodo.

'Just shock,' Bilbo said as he got up off his knees. 'Shock, and maybe wounded pride.'

Thorin smiled when Frodo looked at him from where he now leant against Bilbo's side. 'I know just the thing for brave little boys,' he said gently. 'Hot chocolate and biscuits. How does that sound?'

In answer, Frodo launched himself into Thorin's arms. The dwarf caught him and laughed as Frodo hugged him, before picking the lad up and holding him in his arms. The sight made Bilbo's heart falter again as Thorin held Frodo so gently and in such a caring manner. The warm feeling spreading through him changed however when, as Thorin called the others and started making his way back to the door, Frodo peeked out from Thorin's neck and gave Bilbo the biggest, widest, cheekiest grin Bilbo had ever seen.

_The little-_

Bilbo could only sigh as Frodo snuggled closer to Thorin's furs and he himself waved away Fíli and Kíli's incessant apologies, assuring them it was an _accident._

Thorin took them back to Dís chambers and she immediately set about ordering pots of hot chocolate and biscuits for everyone while Thorin settled Frodo on the sofa, making sure he was comfortable. Bilbo went to sit by him and he was relieved (if also strangely disappointed) when Thorin moved away to talk to Dís. When the hot chocolate arrived, thick and hot and deliciously rich - with extra milk in his for Frodo - they all began to drink, the warmth filling their stomachs and chasing the last vestiges of chill from their bodies. The biscuits were a light crunchy sort of ginger biscuit, almost hollow, which Bofur explained had once been the poor dwarf's version of gingerbread before the recipe found popularity amongst the rich folk too. Whatever they were, Frodo certainly enjoyed them.

Soon the lad was tired after all that exertion and excitement and he sat with his head resting on Bilbo's arm as his eyes closed sleepily. Bilbo pulled him into his lap and let him fall asleep for a bit, encased in Bilbo's arms.

Thorin soon found his way to the sofa and sat next to Bilbo, offering him a pipe which Bilbo eagerly accepted - anything to help him calm his nerves.

'Frodo's grown rather fond of you,' Bilbo said at last to break the silence, puffing on the pipe and staring at the fire.

'I've grown fond of him,' Thorin said. 'He does you proud, Bilbo. I know he's not your son but sometimes he's so like you it's uncanny.'

'Yes, well...'

'That's a good thing,' Thorin said. 'An excellent thing, in fact. If he grows up to be anything like you, then he'll be a fine hobbit indeed.'

Bilbo flushed to hear Thorin praise him so.

'Don't let the neighbours hear you say that,' he said lightly. 'According to them I'm off my rocker and they've labelled me accordingly - Mad Baggins, they call me in the village, although never to my face-'

'What?' Thorin said and he sounded indignant. 'Why would they call you that?'

'Well,' Bilbo said, embarrassed now, 'adventures aren't the most hobbity thing to do and it wasn't very respectable to go running off with thirteen dwarves, no less-'

'Stuff _respectable_,' Thorin almost growled. 'They shouldn't call you that. You're the nicest, most decent hobbit I know-'

'Thorin, I'm the _only _hobbit you know,' Bilbo replied with a small smile. 'Except for Frodo.'

Thorin shrugged. 'They should be glad they live half a world away from me and that I'm kept busy,' he muttered darkly. 'They wouldn't so quick to insult you after I'd dealt with them.'

Bilbo laughed - perhaps a little deliriously, Thorin's presence so close to him on the sofa making him feel more than a little weightless - and Thorin chuckled along too.

Frodo woke at the vibrations of Bilbo's laughter running through his chest and opened his eyes minutely. When he saw his uncle laughing and Thorin sitting so close Frodo could see their arms were nearly touching, he smiled to himself as he returned to his nap. Maybe this year, Papa Yule would make this a good Yule for his Uncle as well...

* * *

**A/N: *I'm saying that hobbits celebrate Yule (hence Papa Yule) where the dwarves celebrate the Solstice. I just wanted to clear that up, so Frodo's comment about Yule at the end makes sense.**

**I hope you enjoyed this! Thank you all so very much for the reviews, favourites and follows - I really, really appreciate it! :3 The next chapter ****_should_**** be up tomorrow, as it's mostly written already and just needs a bit of work.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: _HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!_**

**I'm sorry, I wanted to upload this yesterday but then my family actually decided to be festive so I got roped into playing games... and eating chocolate. It's a hard life :P But there is one more chapter which I _hope _to post this evening so that it's done before all the festivities are over.  
**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter :)**

* * *

_**1 DAY UNTIL THE SOLSTICE**_

'One day until the Solstice! Wakey wakey, Frodo! Time to get up, Bilbo! Things to do today...!'

Bilbo groaned as Fíli and Kíli half sang, half shouted at them the next morning. Bilbo thought ruefully that an alarm clock would have been much more preferable to this loud, almost tuneless crooning of the boys. It did the trick, though, and Bilbo was up as quickly as possible, even if it was only to shut them up.

'Thorin wanted to wake you up this morning,' Kíli said as Bilbo started trying to hustle them out of the room.

'But we told him he shouldn't,' Fíli said.

'After all, you haven't heard him sing properly yet and it has to be a surprise - he'll be singing at the festival tomorrow anyway - ouch!' Kíli rubbed his arm in a disgruntled manner.

'That was supposed to be _secret_,' Fíli hissed.

'If it helps, I heard nothing,' Bilbo said. 'Now, we'll see you at breakfast in a minute.' He managed to shoo them out of the door and he heard them bickering as they walked back down the corridor.

Bilbo got himself and Frodo dressed as quickly as possible before heading for the small dining room. Frodo bounced along beside him and Bilbo had to keep a tight grip on his hand to stop the lad from racing ahead. They got there only to find it nearly empty - only Balin, Dís, Thorin and the boys were present and it was a much quieter affair than usual.

'Where is everyone?' Frodo asked as they sat down.

'They're all busy preparing for tonight,' Dís said. 'It's the Solstice Eve and there's a lot to be done for the celebration tomorrow.'

Due to their smaller number, Bilbo found himself sitting across from Thorin. It was even worse than being next to him, as Bilbo found it incredibly difficult not to simply stare at him and forget his food altogether. He was also more self-conscious as he felt Thorin's gaze sometimes linger on him, and his movements turned a little stiff as he tried not to do anything silly.

'Bilbo, are you feeling alright?' The concern in Thorin's voice made Bilbo flush even redder and he looked up, trying to smile nonchalantly.

'Oh, yes - I'm perfectly fine, thank you.'

'You do look a little pink,' Kíli said.

'Are you too warm?' Fíli asked, nothing but worry in his voice but if Bilbo hadn't known better (and he wasn't sure that he _did) _he could have sworn those two were up to something.

'No, I'm fine, honestly!' he said, smiling. Thorin didn't look convinced but he returned to his food, although the frequency of his glances at Bilbo seemed to double and it did nothing to help matters. Bilbo finished breakfast with only half of his food actually gone, and that if anything earned him a few odd looks.

He enquired as to what the plans for today were, and Thorin looked apologetic. 'I'm sorry, Bilbo, but this morning I'm busy. I have things I must prepare for tomorrow - it's an important day for us...'

'Oh, no, of course. That's fine; honestly, I wouldn't wish to get in the way at all!' he said, but he couldn't stop the little sinking feeling of disappointment in his stomach. He'd grown accustomed to having Thorin near most of the time, and now that he was being denied that... He shook his head, despairing of himself.

Thorin took his leave of them then, casting a last long, unreadable look in Bilbo's direction as he left the room. It was decided that Bilbo and Frodo could visit Bombur in the kitchens in the morning, and Fíli suggested that he and Frodo went to collect their new coats from Dori that afternoon.

'Kíli and I will take you! You can have lunch with Bombur and then we'll get you and take you to Dori!' Fíli said enthusiastically and Kíli nodded along with him.

Bilbo felt more than ever like extra baggage but admittedly, the thought of spending the whole day in the kitchen was a very appealing one, so he didn't mind too much. Especially as he could smell the most delicious scents wafting from them as they got closer to the kitchens. Frodo had of course seen the kitchens before after he and Fíli and Kíli had run off on their ill-advised trip during the visit to the market, and he drew slightly ahead of Bilbo, leading him by the hand.

They heard merry humming through the doors and occasionally another voice would join in, singing the words to the tune and at other times laughing at something. Bilbo recognised the jovial laughter as Bofur's and assumed the hummer was Bombur. He was proved correct when they entered the kitchen, Bofur with a little piece of wood and a whittling knife with his feet on the table and Bombur busy at a counter, back to the door and up to his elbows in flour. There were other cooks and maids running around in the other parts of the kitchen, pots and pans banging as they went about their business.

'Oh, hello Bilbo!' Bofur said rather loudly, sitting up and removing his feet from the table when he saw Bilbo and Frodo enter. 'Hey there, little fella,' he greeted Frodo and Frodo grinned back at the cheeky smile on Bofur's face.

Bombur looked up at Bofur's words and called a greeting before hurrying to the other end of the huge kitchen, dodging the odd maid or kitchen-lad, flour ghosting off his clothes and dissipating in the air as he moved. He shuffled about a bit in one of the cupboards before closing it and coming back to join them.

'Morning, Bilbo, Frodo,' he said, a large grin on his face. 'You come to join us?'

'Yes, if it's alright,' Bilbo said. Bombur just looked chuffed and at his grin Bilbo relaxed and let Frodo take off his jacket before Bilbo then laid it neatly on the back of a chair so that it wouldn't get crumpled.

'Bofur! Look at what you've done to the table!' Bombur chided his older brother as he inspected the table. 'Scuff marks all over the place!' He gave Bofur a dark glare, which made the hatted dwarf grin sheepishly. When Bombur turned away he rolled his eyes affectionately. 'I'm just making some tarts at the moment,' Bombur said as he moved back to the work surface. 'Do you want to help, Frodo?'

'Yes please, Mr Bombur!' Frodo said, and hurried to Bombur's side. The work surface was taller than him and he gripped the edge as he stood on his tiptoes to peer up. Bombur chuckled and called to one of the maids scurrying around, who nodded and quickly brought a small crate, which boosted Frodo up so that he could work at the counter.

'Look how tall I am, Uncle!' he crowed. 'I'm as tall as you now.'

'Not quite, lad,' Bilbo laughed. 'I've got a couple of inches on you yet!'

Bombur made Frodo wash his hands with warm water and then they returned to the counter. He showed Frodo the dough he'd been rolling out and then let him have a go, pounding at the dough and stretching it. Frodo had made pastry before, both with Bilbo when he came to visit and plenty of times with Prim - who was an excellent baker and as protective of her bakes as she was skilled - and he showed off his skill, surprising Bombur with the ease with which he handled he pastry dough.

They started cutting the dough into shapes and placing them into the tins Bombur had already lined and greased, and then Bombur popped them in the oven, switching that tray for one he'd set aside earlier full of pastry cases now fully cooled and ready to be filled. He fetched a jar from a cupboard and grabbed a pan from the oven where he'd been cooking previously. While he poured some of the light, sweet custard into the little tarts, Frodo spooned the jewel-bright jam full of bits of strawberry and raspberry over the top.

When they'd done Frodo looked absolutely delighted and his cheeks were pink with excitement, but he only got more excited when Bombur brought them all one of the tarts, placing them on a little plate with a fork and sitting down at the table with the others. It was delicious, and Bilbo couldn't praise them enough, enjoying the gratified look on Bombur's face and Frodo's enthusiasm at his words.

When they'd finished eating, they stayed seated at the table and Bofur continued whittling away at his piece of wood.

'What are you making, Mr Bofur?' Frodo asked curiously, staring at the wood slowly starting to take shape under Bofur's ministrations.

'It's the Mountain,' Bofur said, slowly as he shaved away a bit of wood from a particularly delicate part. 'Or at least, it will be, when it's done.'

Frodo watched in fascination as the block of wood slowly turned into a miniature model of the Mountain in Bofur's skilled hands. It was quite something to see it right before him and even Bilbo was entranced by it. Bofur grinned at the expressions of deep concentration on their faces and when it was complete, he presented it to Frodo with an air of great solemnity. Frodo couldn't believe it and he sat gawking at the model he now held, so lifelike in its every detail. Bofur gave Bilbo a sly grin and pulled something out of one of his inside pockets, placing it in Bilbo's hand.

'I made this for you,' he said, eyes crinkling and a wicked gleam in them as he grinned, his moustache lifting.

Bilbo looked at the figurine he now held. It was a dwarf...

'Bofur!' he exclaimed disbelievingly, closing his hand around it quickly.

Bofur just grinned.

'Can I see yours, uncle Bilbo?' Frodo asked, and Bilbo handed it to him without taking his eyes off Bofur, hoping his nephew wouldn't notice the resemblance; it was a long shot though, considering how observant he'd proved himself to be...

'Uncle, why did Bofur carve you a figurine of Mr Thorin?'

Bilbo sighed. 'It's not Thorin, Frodo, it's just a dwarf who happens to look like Thorin.' Frodo looked at him and he knew his nephew wasn't convinced, but he didn't want to explain to the lad why Bofur had carved it. When Frodo returned his attention to the figurines, already playing with them as he made the dwarf seige the Mountain, Bilbo looked at Bofur desperately.

'_Why?' _

'You've not been completely successful at hiding it, Bilbo,' Bofur chuckled. 'But don't worry, I won't say anything. And so far as I know it's only meself and Bombur who know.'

Bilbo cringed and sank back in his chair. Sweet Eru...

Suddenly there was a bit of commotion as Fíli and Kíli entered the kitchen, calling out greetings to everyone.

'Fíli! Kíli!' Frodo was up immediately, figurines still in his hands, and running to the brothers. Fíli caught him up with a muffled _oof _as Frodo's momentum sent him hurtling into him. He paused when Frodo said something to him, eyes twinkling slightly, before continuing on and joining Bofur and Bilbo at the table, Bombur having gone to take the pastry cases out of the oven.

'Afternoon everyone,' he said as he let Frodo down, who immediately took the seat between Fíli and Kíli. 'Have you had lunch yet?'

'No,' Bilbo said, 'actually we haven't...'

Bombur immediately headed for the pantry and pulled out a few loaves of bread, some cold turkey and a small jar of cranberry sauce. 'There's something special for dinner this evening, so it's only a small lunch,' he said. (By small, he meant only that it wasn't a full meal - they still managed to consume nearly five turkey sandwiches each.)

When done, the boys patting their stomachs in a satisfied way, Kíli asked if Bilbo was ready to go and see Dori and get their coats picked up.

'Can I save one of the tarts for Mr Thorin, please, Mr Bombur?' Frodo asked as Bilbo picked up his jacket.

'But we're not going to see him until this evening. You can leave it here for now, can't you, Frodo?' Bilbo asked.

'But then I might not be the one to give it to him!' Frodo looked so distraught at the idea of not being able to present the pastry to Thorin that no one could resist, and Bombur tied it up in a little napkin and gave it to Frodo who clutched it tightly, and patted his curls affectionately.

'There you go, lad. You give that to Thorin and you tell him you made it yourself, yes?' he said, grinning, and Frodo just rewarded them all with the brightest smile they'd ever seen.

And then they were leaving, Frodo waving goodbye and thanking Bombur and Bofur as they exited the room. He still clutched tightly at the napkin-wrapped tart with one hand while holding Bilbo's with the other, and he had a look of determination on his little face - although Bilbo couldn't fathom what for.

Fíli and Kíli were being their usual boisterous selves, laughing and playfully bickering all the while they led them to Dori's workshop. They left the royal quarters but the shop was located in the rich part of the city close to the royal quarters and everything was very decorative still in these corridors and halls. Eventually they reached it, a shop with a large purple painted sign with Khuzdûl letters of shaped gold attached spelling out the name of the shop. Fíli and Kíli entered, calling out loudly, and Bilbo and Frodo followed.

They found Nori sitting at the counter looking extremely bored. He glared at the Princes when they entered.

'Dori's in the back with a customer,' he told them.

'Although it's not really a _customer-'_ Kíli began, but Fíli elbowed him sharply.

'How come you're here, Nori?' Bilbo asked, moving closer and leaning on his side of the counter. 'I didn't see you as one for settling down running a business.'

Nori rolled his eyes. 'I ain't. Dori's roped me in to sit here every couple of days to watch the front while he fiddles about round back - if I do he'll turn a blind eye to whatever else I choose to spend my time doing.' He gave a wicked grin, and Bilbo decided not to enquire as to what _that_ was. He reckoned he had a fairly good idea anyway.

'He loves it really,' Fíli joked. 'He's just upset Bofur isn't here to help make time fly today -' Fíli expertly dodged the punch aimed in his direction, as if he'd had plenty of practice before.

'Shut it,' Nori said. 'I can still tell your ma about last week-'

Both boys blanched at that and Nori looked smug at his threat.

'What would you tell Dís?'

Everyone span around at the voice; if possible the boys grew even paler while Nori tried to look nonchalant and Bilbo just tried not to gape.

'Mister Thorin!' Frodo cried, rushing forward to beam up at Thorin - for it was Thorin, Dori's 'customer', and Bilbo thought he'd never seen him look so handsome. He was in long flowing robes of deep purple velvet and silks with tiny veins of real gold thread running through the material, giving it a sheen that almost glowed when it caught the light. The fur that lined the collar was pure white with rich cream undertones; whatever animal it had come from must have been a sight to behold. There were also little decorative gold chains adorning Thorin's robes, some of the delicate links with tiny runes made of mithril dangling from them.

Thorin looked... More than amazing, and Bilbo tried not to stare in the face of such beauty - because beauty it was, with Thorin's dark hair contrasting perfectly against the rich tone of the purple and the blue of his eyes off-setting the gold.

He looked up when he noticed Thorin looking at him, and he felt himself flushing under Thorin's gaze.

'Do I look as a King should?' he asked Bilbo quietly, and there was something in his voice that made Bilbo pause. Something as if he wanted to say more, but Bilbo must have fancied that up himself.

'I - you look -' Bilbo coughed. 'You look wonderful, Thorin. Truly.' He tried not to show just how beautiful he thought he looked. Thorin smiled at that, his eyes crinkling, and Bilbo had to remember how to breathe.

Dori came out from the back, holding a couple of pins and a tape measure. He saw Bilbo and Frodo and smiled, greeting them enthusiastically.

'I have your coats in the back,' he said. 'Nori, will you go and fetch them for me?'

Nori gave a mock sigh but he got up and headed round the back while Dori fussed a little at certain aspects of Thorin's robes, adjusting one or two pieces and straightening out the folds.

'It's my robes for the Solstice tomorrow,' Thorin explained to Bilbo and Frodo.

'What do these mean?' Frodo asked, pointing to the mithril runes.

'They symbolise the things we celebrate at the Solstice - Mahal, life, family, forgiveness and remembrance,' Thorin said, pointing to the corresponding rune as he listed. Frodo then clapped a hand to his head.

'Oh, Mr Thorin, I nearly forgot!'

Nori appeared back in the doorway with their coats while Frodo shyly explained about the fruit tart. Thorin chuckled and thanked Frodo very sincerely, claiming that as soon as he was changed he'd eat it.

By that point Dori had finished with Thorin and was checking the fit of Bilbo's coat. It was plenty big enough now and it fit comfortably (which was, for Bilbo, always the first priority) and he moved around in it a little to get used to it.

In the meantime Frodo was retrieving his hand-carved Lonely Mountain from his coat pocket, but in the process he managed to pull out the figurine... Of Thorin. Bilbo would have cursed if children hadn't been present.

Thorin stooped to pick it up, Frodo continuing to natter away while Dori adjusted little things about the coat.

'Bofur gave that to Uncle Bilbo earlier when we were in the kitchen-' Frodo said, blithely ignorant of the way Thorin's hand tightened around the figure at his words.

'Bofur made this - for Bilbo?'

'Yes, but doesn't it look like you, Mr Thorin?'

Thorin looked down at the figurine in his hand and then up at Bilbo -

And fell abruptly silent. Bilbo looked over to see Frodo still standing next to Thorin, retrieving his Thorin-figurine from Thorin's loosely curled palm. When Bilbo saw Thorin holding it he blushed and looked away, doubt rising through his body as he stood in his dwarvish cloak and Thorin stared at him.

He looked down at himself. 'I look really silly, don't I?' he said ruefully. It was a shame, as it waa such a beautiful piece of tailoring... Immediately the others all cried out, but it was Thorin's quiet 'don't be absurd, Bilbo Baggins,' that made his heart flutter and stomach tighten.

When Dori was satisfied with Bilbo's jacket he stepped away and smiled in satisfaction. Then he picked up Frodo's jacket and tried it on the lad; it was a perfect fit and Frodo looked like the cutest dwarfling that ever lived, with his floppy curls and large feet. He grinned in absolute delight at his coat and looked eagerly at Fíli and Kíli as he cried 'Now we match!'

He jumped up into Kíli's lap, eliciting a huff as he landed heavily on his legs, and the three started chattering.

Thorin looked at Bilbo then. 'Let me change, and I can be right with you. I've managed to do most of what needs doing already, so perhaps we could have afternoon tea together, Bilbo, seeing as we missed lunch?' He was smiling so freely and Bilbo dithered for a split second (by Yavanna, he wanted to have tea with Thorin so badly but on the other hand he was absolutely terrified he'd show himself up in the most spectacular way - and get himself thrown out of Erebor for the second time. He wasn't sure if he could bear that.) but he merely smiled.

'I'd like that, Thorin,' he said; for a second it looked like relief washed over Thorin's face but an instant later it was his usual smile (if a smile from Thorin Oakenshield could be called _usual. _It made Bilbo increasingly happy to notice that actually, it _could _be applicable - more and more so every day.)

Thorin went round to the back of the shop again and when he came back he was in his usual dark blue coat with the robes over his arm. Dori took them and Thorin thanked him and when they'd all said their thank yous and good-byes they were leaving, but not before Thorin pulled back just for a moment to whisper in Nori's ear..

'I will find out what happened last week with my nephews,' he said in a low voice. Nori didn't look fazed, but he did purse his lips in a small gesture of discomfort. Thorin nodded and then joined Bilbo by the door; as it shut behind them they heard Dori asking his brother what Thorin had said to him and Nori's casual reassurance and cover-up lie.

Frodo, Fíli and Kíli were slightly ahead of them and Frodo had managed to coax the lads into trying to swing him. He stood between them, holding a hand each, as they brought their arms forward to pull him into the air. However for dwarves so coordinated during combat these two were utterly useless, and their timing was horrible - Kíli's arm only just going back while Fíli's was forward and vice versa.

'You two aren't very good at this,' Frodo said uncertainly. He turned to Bilbo. 'Uncle, please would you swing me?'

'But Frodo, there's only -' he stopped. He had been going to say "there's only me" and you can't swing someone with only one swinger, which was the reason Bilbo had been unable to swing Frodo in the three years since his parents died. But then he realised that there _wasn't _only him.

There was Thorin...

Frodo had come to walk with him, clutching at Bilbo's new coat and looking up at him hopefully. Bilbo looked at Thorin, who smiled widely.

'Of course we can swing you, Frodo,' he said, leaving Bilbo with heart stuttering. Oh Eru, as they both held one each of Frodo's hands, Bilbo couldn't ignore the voice that whispered that _he was holding hands with Thorin through Frodo! _He tried to push the ridiculous notion away but his brain was having none of it, leaving him with butterflies in his stomach and a slightly faster pulse.

It was made slightly awkward by their height difference, Frodo's hands being lopsided - his left hand higher than his right due to Thorin's taller frame, but Bilbo could forget all that at Frodo's delighted squeals as he was swung into the air and back down. It made Bilbo laugh and he thought he heard Thorin chuckle as well, and by the time Frodo was dizzy and breathless with excitement Bilbo's arm was aching but he couldn't care less.

Even though they stopped swinging him, Frodo didn't let go of either adult's hand, and it made Bilbo laugh to see how Frodo exerted such a big hold over Thorin that the dwarf king held little Frodo's hand in a gentle but firm grip. It made Bilbo wonder why Thorin had never had children of his own, and then suddenly his throat was burning and he had to blink away the sudden dryness in his eyes.

Fíli and Kíli leading, they ended up in Thorin's apartments for afternoon tea and Thorin rang for platters to be brought up. They five of them enjoyed a light meal of cheese and crackers, sandwiches and little dainty cakes. It was delicious and if Bilbo enjoyed it all the more for Thorin's warm presence by his side, well, he didn't say anything and no one noticed.

When the food had been cleared away Frodo got out his figures again - Bilbo couldn't look at the Thorin-esque figurine without blushing, especially as Thorin seemed transfixed by it and Bilbo noticed his knuckles were white as they fisted in his cloak; he visibly relaxed them when he noticed Bilbo glancing at them, however.

'I've just remembered something,' he said, and stood up quickly. 'I won't be a moment.'

He disappeared into his bedchamber and shut the door behind him before Bilbo could see much more than a glimpse of one old, very ornate bedpost. A few minutes later he came out with a triumphant grin on his face and clutching a large wooden chest. He set it down on the floor next to Frodo, who looked at it curiously.

'Oh...' both boys breathed as they recognised the chest.

Thorin snapped the clasp open and lifted the lid very carefully before reaching a hand in to pull something out. Frodo's expression morphed from curiosity to wonder and Bilbo moved closer too, letting out an awed exclamation when Thorin held up a carved figurine made of white, black-veined marble, precious and semi-precious stones embedded around the base.

'A swordsman,' Thorin said, placing it carefully down in front of Frodo.

'An archer,' this time putting down a figure with a delicately crafted bow and arrow, the strip of rock forming the bowstring fibre-thin, with a circlet of little stubs of topaz around its base.

'A knight,' he said, this time pulling out a figurine that made Bilbo and Frodo exhale in awe at the skill that must must have been needed to create such a realistic piece. He drew out three more figures - a spearman, a pikeman and another archer, this time with a crossbow and arrow for shooting through the defences in the walls, each with a different gem around the base.

'These are beautiful,' Bilbo said quietly, wanting but not quite daring to touch one of them. Obviously Frodo was fighting the same impulse as he was twiddling his fingers together to stop them reaching out.

'They were mine as a boy,' Thorin said. 'And my father's before me.' He picked up the mounted knight, a small frown appearing on his face. 'But their use was not as pleasant as it might seem. I wasn't allowed to play with them - they were part of my training.'

He sounded slightly bitter but he continued, looking at Bilbo. 'Before I even held my first sword I was already a tactician, a battle strategist. My grandfather had another set, made of grey marble - I don't know what happened to his, probably lost and destroyed during the fire - and he would sit with me and we would plan out battle formations, trying to outwit the other.'

He looked back down at the figurine in his hand before he placed it gently back down. 'Now Frodo, I want you to use them like I was never allowed to. Play with them.'

Frodo looked completely gobsmacked. 'But Mister Thorin - I can't! What if they break-'

'Then they break,' Thorin said simply. 'It doesn't matter. They're only bits of stone shaped with a chisel. Please, Frodo, do me the honour of using these as they should be used.'

He held Frodo's gaze for a long moment, sapphire eyes staring into sky ones, and then Frodo gulped and nodded. 'Thank you ever so much, Mister Thorin.'

Thorin just smiled and ruffled his hair before standing up from where he'd been kneeling and sitting back down at the table and motioning for Bilbo to join him. 'Fíli, Kíli, join Frodo,' he said and the boys obeyed, grinning.

Thorin looked down at the table as he sat next to Bilbo. 'I suppose you disapprove mightily,' he sighed.

'You're a King, Thorin. It's inevitable that you would have had to learn such things,' Bilbo said softly.

'I wish it didn't have to be that way. It was so cold, Bilbo, every day for an hour learning how best to _decimate_ another army - how to wipe out hundreds of thousands of lives at the least cost to yourself. My grandfather wasn't the most affectionate of dwarves and it was so _ruthless. _When I... When Dís and I had to teach Fíli, it was always on the understanding that these things should be avoided if possible; when I think of what I nearly did six years ago I -' Thorin stopped, taking a breath. 'I find it hard to forgive myself for that even now.'

Bilbo gently reached out and touched Thorin's hand. He looked surprised by the contact but not displeased; when he turned his hand so that he could hold Bilbo's it sent little curls of happiness running through Bilbo's body.

'Thorin, you weren't yourself then. Please, don't keep punishing yourself for something that you didn't do. I may not have known you for as long as some, but I know that you would never do that willingly. You... You're a good man, Thorin.'

Thorin squeezed Bilbo's hand ever so gently. 'Thank you,' he whispered, and Bilbo returned the squeeze firmly until Thorin smiled, ignoring the warmth spreading through his veins.

The afternoon passed with Bilbo and Thorin watching as Fíli and Kíli rediscovered their inner child (not that Bilbo was entirely convinced that they'd lost it in the first place) as they played with Frodo, who had decided that the figures were sieging the terrible castle (the table) of the evil goblin king (the mountain figurine) and Kíli played as the archer, Fíli the swordsman and Frodo claimed the mounted soldier. It would have been alright had Frodo not decided that they were trying to rescue his Uncle Bilbo, who had been imprisoned as a ransom to get King Thorin to pay the Goblin all the gold in Erebor.

'I don't need saving!' Bilbo exclaimed indignantly, but received only grins from all the others, including Thorin, who moved away to join their game, taking control of his own character and killing all the evil orcs that stood in his way to reach the tower where Bilbo was being 'held', while Bilbo sat with arms crossed and flaming cheeks.

Thorin laughed at his disgruntled expression. 'I know you are perfectly capable of looking after yourself, Bilbo! But allow me to return a favour and rescue you - you did, after all, return my kingdom to me.'

'Hardly...' Bilbo grumbled, but he couldn't deny that the thought of Thorin wanting to "rescue" him made him feel just a little warm inside.

It was dinnertime soon and Frodo packed the marble figures away safely in their box.

'Thank you for letting me play with them,' Frodo said shyly. Thorin just smiled and laid a hand on his shoulder. Then they left for the dining room, Fíli and Kíli evidently excited about something.

'What are you two so happy about?' Bilbo asked them warily.

'It's a special dinner tonight,' Thorin explained. 'Not to celebrate the Solstice, but _you. _You and Frodo.'

'Well, that's - really, it's - quite unnecessary,' he said, but Thorin wouldn't have any of it.

'Bombur's worked so hard to make this perfect,' he said, 'would you deny him this chance to show off his skill?'

And of course Bilbo couldn't, so he just muttered something about 'extravagance' which only served to make Thorin laugh.

When they arrived everyone else was already gathered and they all stood up when they entered. They cheered a bit for Bilbo (who was a little flustered at the attention) and Frodo (who loved every minute of it) and then the food was brought out. Bombur had apparently gone to great lengths to make the menu perfect and alongside the requisite lamb and beef dishes there were plenty of vegetables - grilled stuffed peppers and roasted tomatoes, vegetables fried in a delicious batter, delicate slivers of honey glazed carrots; as well as more hearty dishes such as cottage pie - which Frodo loudly informed everyone was Bilbo's favourite, much to his gratification when everyone gave him extra servings of it. There were also little sausages wrapped in bacon, also a particular favourite of Bilbo's, and he remembered that the thought of bacon frying in a pan and remembering the fatty, delicious smell of it had kept him going through some of his darkest moments on the quest. *

Of course there was also much ale and mead being drunk, more so than usual, and gradually the atmosphere of the room grew lighter and lighter as the occupants grew steadily tipsier (except for Frodo, who was strictly only allowed the fruit cordials and juices).

Dessert was also sumptuous, even if much of the fruit was contained in jams and jellies due to the winter weather. When everyone was beginning to get pleasantly full, Fíli stood up (leaning slightly to one side and Kíli holding him up) and began to speak.

'Gentlemen and my most esteemed mother,' he said, definitely tipsy, 'we are gathered in this lovely cosy dining room tonight for a very special reason - Kíli, stop poking me! _Alright -' _He righted himself and started again. 'We're here because our wonderful friend Bilbo Baggins - who I must say has aged very well these past six years, don't you think Uncle? - and his lovely nephew Frodo are here to stay with us. We have a little monument to our appreciation of you, our dear Mr Baggins. Bombur!'

And then he sat - more like _fell _- back into his seat, Kíli giggling into his ear. Bilbo, who was still flushing over the comment about ageing (he was only fifty-seven, thank you very much!) hadn't noticed that Bombur had stood up and moved over to a corner; now that Bilbo saw he also noted the large, cloth-covered shape beside him, which he now placed in the centre of the table.

'Made with all our love,' Bombur said, his cheeks a rosy pink from the ale they'd all consumed, and then he whisked off the dark blue sheet to reveal -

Bilbo's breath left him in an awed gasp. There was a smial on the dining table - an almost exact replica of Bag End, complete with garden and oak tree on top of the hill. It was made of tinted sugar, solidified into this structure that looked almost like glass, and Bilbo could see the distorted shapes of the others through it. But what caught Bilbo's eye was the little row of figures lined up on the stairs leading to Bag End's door: fourteen. One for each of the Company.

Each little figure was made from marzipan and some were more recognisable than others - Bofur's, Bombur's and Ori's for example were definitely recognisable; Fíli's and Kíli's could only be identified by their hair colour and the fact their figures were standing together. Bilbo's little figure stood upon the top door step, turned slightly towards the doorway to his smial but looking at his marzipan friends. Thorin stood on the next step down and then the others came after in a marzipan-dwarf trail down to the garden gate, intricately built out of sticks of solidified sugar.

'How...?' he asked, still slightly too shocked to speak.

'Ori,' Bombur grinned.

'I drew your hobbit-hole that evening we first arrived at your house,' Ori said. 'Bombur used it as reference.'

'It's perfect,' Bilbo said, feeling himself start to choke up a little. A little warm hand hooked through his arm and Frodo smiled up at him. 'Although I'm not entirely sure how we're going to _eat _it.'

'Ah, well I've got _that_ covered!' Bombur said, and he span the platter the sugar smial was resting on to reach the weak spot he'd left. In the process some of the marzipan models not completely stuck down fell over, and Bilbo was most certainly _not _tipsy enough not to be embarrassed when his figure slipped down, knocking Thorin's over in the process and landing in a rather compromising position.

Fíli and Kíli giggled so hard at the fact 'Bilbo' was now lying on top of 'Thorin' that Kíli ended up falling off his chair, bringing Fíli down with him and earning them disapproving looks from their mother and Uncle and amused giggles from Frodo as they chuckled weakly on the floor.

Bilbo had probably (almost certainly) flushed a bright scarlet at the rather unfortunate positioning (it was made worse by the fact that his daydreaming had occasionally wandered down this path, before he quickly turned it in another direction) and he quickly reached out and plucked his figure from where it lay (with a brief awkward moment where the marzipan feet had stuck to Thorin) and deliberately avoided looking at the dwarf next to him. He handed the little figure to Frodo, who had thankfully not recognised the significance of what happened and the lad grinned and added it to his little collection next to his wooden Thorin.

Thorin was chuckling beside him when Bombur handed him a plate of delicate green and pink tinted slivers of sugar to eat. Frodo and then Thorin received one too and then the others, Dwalin looking chuffed at managing to claim the crystal tree for himself.

Nothing else disastrous happened during the rest of dinner, other than Balin treating them all to a rather loud song. When Frodo's head began to droop Bilbo decided to retire as well and he thanked everyone most sincerely for everything before picking Frodo up and holding him to his chest. Frodo had fallen deeply asleep and didn't wake up at the movement, making it difficult for Bilbo to carry him without his arm turning at a funny angle.

Thorin stood and prised the boy from Bilbo's grip; at first Bilbo tried to protest and held Frodo tighter, but Thorin merely raised an eyebrow. 'I wasn't going to say anything about the marzipan, but I _will_,' he threatened, and Bilbo huffed and allowed him to take Frodo.

The two left the dining room and instantly it was quieter and cooler than in there. There was silence between them but it was companionable, and Bilbo felt at ease.

'I do hope you enjoyed tonight,' Thorin broke in as Bilbo opened the door. .

'Yes, I... I really did,' he smiled as he led the way to the large bed and pulled off the covers so that Thorin could lie Frodo down and then he tucked the quilts around him before toying with his little curls. 'Thank you all ever so much. Although somehow I think Fíli will be regretting his alcohol consumption come tomorrow!'

Thorin grinned. 'I think many of our Company will,' he agreed. There was a moment of silence for a moment, before Thorin smiled gently. 'Goodnight, Bilbo. I will see you tomorrow for the Solstice celebrations.'

Bilbo smiled back, a genuine smile of excitement and happiness at the thought. 'I'm looking forward to it.'

Thorin looked pleased at that, and inclined his neck in a nod to Bilbo before turning to leave. But then he paused and turned back, looking a little uncertain but determined.

'Bilbo, I just want you to know that you really are a friend to us. To _me_. I don't know that I ever told you before but I think you should know.' He stepped closer to Bilbo, whose stomach started backflipping and fluttering as he moved so close Bilbo could feel his warmth. 'As a friend, I've never shown you any real sign of affection. Forgive me, Bilbo, and let me now show you my regard for you.'

He was so close now and Bilbo held his breath. Oh Valar, this was... This was intense but oh so painful to resist moving, to resist doing anything embarrassing or impertinent and _surely Thorin wasn't going to kiss him-_

Thorin lowered his head to Bilbo's level but he didn't kiss him; instead he leaned in and stood with his forehead pressed against Bilbo's, their breath mingling in the space between their faces and Bilbo could smell the faint scent of musk on Thorin, who was smiling gently at him in the most heart-breakingly beautiful way. He closed his eyes for a moment before backing away, leaving Bilbo nearly breathless as he stared at Thorin, dumbstruck.

'Goodnight, Bilbo,' he said again, softly, and then he turned and was gone. It took a while for Bilbo to come to his senses, and it was only after he'd curled up in bed next to Frodo that he realised he hadn't wished Thorin a good night in return.

* * *

**A/N: I'm currently re-reading The Hobbit and I've found that book!Bilbo _literally_ thinks of food whenever he's upset or scared and bacon appears to be his absolute favourite comfort food - he stops in the Goblin tunnels when he's lost and doesn't know where to go so he sits down and starts thinking about frying up some bacon at home in his cosy smial, and that gives him the strength to carry on (and eventually find Gollum). He also compares himself to a strip of bacon when he's been rescued by the Eagles and taken to the Eyrie. And there are so many more incidents but these two are just the two I read yesterday! Anyway. Fun fact for you. :3**

**Thanks for reading and for all your reviews, favourites and follows! I really appreciate it. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I finally had time to finish it! This is the last chapter and I _really_ hope you enjoy it! This story was never meant to be this long but what can I say, ThThilbo fluff just writes itself so I really hope you've enjoyed the story. Now for the last chapter! **

* * *

_**THE SOLSTICE**_

Bilbo woke early the next morning, his dreams uneasy and full of blue eyes staring into his own. He was just as tired when he woke up as when he'd gone to sleep but his body was restless and more than once he found himself tapping his foot against the soft sheets. His mind also raced, lingering on the way Thorin had smiled so warmly and looked so gently at him as they'd stood, foreheads together, for what could only have been a few moments but felt like a lifetime to Bilbo.

Frodo woke not long after, blinking open his bleary eyes and smiling up at Bilbo as he remembered what day it was.

'It's the Solstice today! It's Yule!' he exclaimed, immediately moving to pull off the covers and get up. Bilbo chuckled, shaking off any of the last vestiges of melancholy he might be feeling before joining Frodo. He ran a quick bath and he and Frodo hurried through it before they got dressed - in their normal clothes; Bilbo was saving their best for the celebration that evening.

They headed for the dining room where they were to meet and bumped into Balin and Dwalin who led him to a door slightly further on from the dining room - a living room of sorts, large enough to fit them all in and filled with a large table to one side and lots of plush sofas. Some of the Company was already there, Fíli, Kíli, Bofur and Nori looking a little pained (Bilbo knew they had consumed particularly large amounts of ale last night).

'Happy Solstice!' they still greeted the new comers loudly and Kíli still managed to bash his head against Balin and Dwalin's, even if he did grimace slightly. Bilbo and Frodo sat down and soon enough everyone else had arrived too, Thorin and Dís last of all. The sight of Thorin made Bilbo's heart constrict as he remembered the evening before and he had to force himself not to squirm when Thorin sent him a warm smile.

Thorin ordered food to be brought in then and it was a good distraction as they sat on the sofas, eating the traditional Solstice breads filled with currants and raisins and lightly spiced. Bilbo thought he felt Thorin's glance land on him a few times so he focused on his food, not looking to make sure if he was correct in case he lost all his careful restraint and did something stupid.

When the plates had been cleared away and Bombur had explained the origins of the Solstice bread (it had apparently started off as a lighter kind of fruit cake, but then the bread version was cheaper and became more popular; the recipe evolved from there) Dís declared it to be time for Solstice to _really _begin.

She began herding them all into the centre of the room and in the confusion and general bustle Frodo left Bilbo's side and ended up between the princes while Thorin somehow appeared next to him; Bilbo vaguely wondered if Thorin wasn't _trying _to drive him to distraction, especially as he smiled extra warmly and he'd changed his braids, an intricate pattern now on his head which pulled more hair away from his face, emphasising the noble features.

He saw Bilbo looking at the plaits in his hair. 'Do you like them?'

'Of course I do,' he spluttered. He just _especially _liked them on Thorin... His breath hitched slightly when Thorin's expression turned serious and he reached out a hand, gently running a finger across Bilbo's curls.

'You... Your hair would be beautiful with a braid or two.' Thorin's voice was so low Bilbo almost felt it rather than heard it, rumbling in his chest and through his fingers. It was low and sensuous and Bilbo had to physically restrain himself by clasping his hands behind his back so that he didn't reach out and pull Thorin in for a kiss.

'I'm not a dwarf, though,' he said hastily. 'I thought such things were kept among your people only.'

'True,' Thorin acceded, his hand dropping back down to his side but his eyes still boring into Bilbo's. 'But you are more than worthy of simple braids, Bilbo.'

Bilbo shivered when Thorin said his name, and quickly (and gratefully) snapped his gaze away from the dwarf beside him when Dís called them all to attention.

'Gentlemen,' she said, and immediately everyone hushed. 'It's time for our Solstice tradition!' As with everything, the dwarves all burst into cheers and Dís motioned for Kíli to bring her something she'd stashed behind one of the sofas. He did so and handed it to her -it was a smallish, tissue-wrapped parcel, and immediately Bilbo had visions of playing Pass The Parcel with these battle-hardened dwarves and had to stifle his laughter. In fact, he wasn't far wrong.

They played _Toss_ The Parcel instead.

The rules were simple - you threw it to anyone and once you'd dropped it you were out of the game. Bilbo immediately panicked - he'd always had terrible hand-eye coordination so he was bound to be the first out; to his relief Frodo looked thrilled at this departure from the civility and passivity of Pass the Parcel at home, and from the looks of it he was happily retelling the boredom of hobbitling birthday parties to Fíli and Kíli, who were nodding sagely and making sympathising noises.

And then the game began. Dís had started and thrown it to Balin, who'd thrown it to Glóin, who'd thrown it to Bofur - who'd dropped it, letting it slip through his fingers and land with a dull thud.

'Oops,' Bilbo heard him mutter before the cheers of the dwarves sounded loud. Bofur seemed to accept his fate with grace, laughing at his own clumsiness until someone - Bilbo thought it was Nori - called out loudly, 'E's still drunk!' Bofur just grinned and flopped messily down on a sofa to watch the proceedings.

Óin was out next and then Bombur, and with each time it was another dwarf and not him who went out Bilbo got slightly giddier. Frodo was holding his own rather well, all things considered, and he seemed to be having the time of his life. Bilbo got even more flustered however as every couple of turns Thorin would throw it to him - not nearly so strongly as he had to the rest of the Company and more than once it was almost more like he was trying to place it into his hands rather than let him catch it.

Bilbo was the next one to drop the parcel however, and graciously he went to join Bofur on the sofa, still feeling a little giddy. Thorin shot a glance in his and Bofur's direction, a strange expression on his face as Bilbo and Bofur laughed at their lack of grace, but then his attention was once more forced back to the game and Bilbo was left to ponder it.

He found he didn't mind being out, not really, as it meant he could better admire Thorin's figure. His broad shoulders rippling under his dark blue shirt and the well-muscled torso... Bilbo had to quickly push those thoughts away when at one point Thorin turned and caught his eye, smiling; Bofur nudged him afterwards and chuckled while Bilbo elbowed him back and tried to settle his blushing.

Frodo lasted for quite a substantial while longer than his uncle and it made Bilbo proud to see him keeping up with the dwarves; eventually though it did slip through his fingers after a throw from Fíli (Kíli had gone out the turn before) and Fíli claimed it was his fault so both he and Frodo dropped out, joining Kíli on one of the sofas, but not before Frodo had come and given his uncle a hug and laughed that Bilbo hadn't been the first to be out.

'It's only because Mister Thorin gave you those easy throws,' he said in a lowered voice, laughing.

'Oh aye,' Bofur said, laughing, 'of course Thorin wanted Bilbo kept in the game. He's missing having him by his side right now.'

Frodo giggled and looked mischievous as he ran off to Fíli and Kíli again.

'_Bofur!' _Bilbo hissed, again shocked at his friend's candid remarks. Yes, alright, he was completely head-over-heels in love with Thorin but he didn't need - or want - Bofur teasing him like that. But Bofur just raised an eyebrow and said nothing, the small smirk on his face saying everything his silence didn't. Bilbo crossed his arms and fully intended to sulk at his friend, before a loud cheer erupted and Thorin was stepping back from the circle, acknowledging the fact he'd dropped the parcel, which left only Dori and Dís vying with each other for the parcel.

All half-formed plans to sulk were of course put paid to when Thorin took the seat next to Bilbo, filling up the sofa and by necessity sitting so close they were almost touching. Bilbo tensed slightly and scowled at the innocent grin that Bofur was shooting in his direction - the hatted dwarf was practically waggling his eyebrows and Bilbo coughed in indignation and embarrassment, which only worsened when Thorin reached out to pat him on the back. Bilbo must have been as bright as a holly berry after that, and he could hardly look at Thorin afterwards so busied himself with picking at his fingernails. He didn't miss the suspicious look Thorin shot at Bofur over his head, however.

A loud cheer interrupted Bilbo's intense study of his nails as Dís stood triumphantly before bestowing a hug on Dori. When the others realised there was a winner they all began to cheer and clap, Fíli and Kíli wooping especially loudly, and Thorin just muttered into Bilbo's ear, 'I told you she was fearsome,' and giving him a small lopsided smile before turning to his sister and cheering.

Dori handed her the parcel (now slightly squashed) and she opened the many layers (Bilbo supposed you'd need a fair number of wrappings to protect whatever the prize was after the bashing it had just received) to reveal a fruit cake, admittedly slightly misshapen, but Glóin assured her it was only the finest and made using his great-great-grandmother's secret recipe, and Dís looked chuffed with it.

After that Bombur, Bofur, Bifur, Óin and Glóin all left to go and spend time with their wives and children/nieces and nephews, reducing the number of the present company dramatically. Not that it mattered, as soon Frodo was piping up about Tig and how they should play that. Bilbo knew why his nephew had chosen that game - it was particularly difficult for those who had not grown up with it as hobbits had to fully understand it and Bilbo knew Frodo was looking forward to showing off just a little.

Obviously this was unknown to the others so they all agreed cheerfully, settling back down in a circle. Bilbo was sandwiched between Frodo and Thorin and he could feel Thorin's leg pressed up against his own in a truly distracting manner.

Frodo began to explain the rules, which caused many a brow to knit in consternation as the dwarves all tried to understand, and then the game started. Frodo was very patient as the dwarves struggled with how many tigs to a tog and when you could tag and the special case of the tug, and Bilbo just focused on the game and forced himself not to shiver every time Thorin touched him, which was rather often in this game as they tapped one another's palm as they spoke.

Eventually it was only Ori, Bilbo and Frodo who were left, a tense battle of tigs and tags taking place. Bilbo could feel Thorin leaning over his shoulder and the warmth the dwarf emanated on his back, surely making him blush. At this rate all the blood in Bilbo's body was in his face and he wondered if it was abandoning the rest of his body to settle in his cheeks purely out of spite. He sighed.

Ori didn't win but he put up a good fight, and Frodo did manage to outwit his uncle, much to his delight and Bilbo's pride at his sharp little nephew. So he _had_ inherited the Baggins shrewdness along with the Brandybuck outgoingness; Drogo would be so proud if he could see his son now.

They had spent a long time playing games so it was then time for a quick lunch. Sandwiches and cakes were brought in and Bilbo ate happily, even with Thorin's warm bulk beside him making him want to lean into that warmth.

'I apologise for the small portions,' Thorin said suddenly, breaking into Bilbo's thoughts. 'But there's the feast tonight and I promise you, you'll want to be hungry for that!'

'Oh! It's fine, really. There's enough for me here, even if we haven't had second breakfast today,' Bilbo grinned. 'Apparently you're singing tonight as well,' he added carefully, glancing up from under his eyelashes at Thorin as he pretended to be engrossed in his sandwich.

'Hm,' Thorin murmured noncommittally. 'Where did you hear that?'

'Oh, just...around, you know,' Bilbo said, hedging. He didn't want to get Fíli and Kíli into trou-

'Did your sources go by the names of Fíli and Kíli, by any chance?' Thorin said in amusement, his eyes piercing Bilbo's.

'They may have done,' Bilbo said sheepishly, and Thorin just grinned.

'Don't worry, it's no huge secret. The King sings at the Solstice Festival every year,' Thorin explained. 'Even during our exile we kept up the tradition, so I've had plenty of practice.' He gave a wry smile. 'I'm glad you're here to share it with me this year, Bilbo. With - with us.'

Bilbo felt a surge of fondness. 'As am I, Thorin,' he said quietly, and smiled. Thorin's answering smile was warm and Bilbo's stomach fluttered so he quickly returned to his plate.

When lunch was over they all settled onto the sofas in the room and there was a pleasant moment of quiet for a while, Frodo leaning against Bilbo.

'I wonder if it snowed at home, Uncle,' the boy said.

'It might have done, but perhaps it won't for a week or two,' Bilbo said, playing with Frodo's curls. 'I just hope my garden's alright!'

They sat for a while longer and then Thorin stood up and retrieved a book from the large bookcase by the fireplace. It was incredibly old and well-thumbed but in good condition otherwise, and it was huge - at least a thousand pages long. Ori was looking at it longingly and fondly - Bilbo knew Ori's penchant for old scripts - and Thorin handled it reverently, those large powerful hands so gentle in their movements.

'It's time for the Solstice story,' Dori explained as Thorin leafed through the book until he got to the correct page. 'It tells the story of the dwarves.'

And then Thorin began to read.

His voice was already enchanting when he spoke normally, so deep and powerful and attractive, and his singing was other-worldly in its haunting beauty. But Thorin Oakenshield's reading was simply mesmerising. There were no words which could describe the lilt of his voice, the deep timbre and perfect enunciation. Bilbo supposed it was a result of his training as a prince, but it was still enough to send shivers down his spine as he spoke of Mahal the Maker forging the first Seven Fathers in secret, the long sleep they were put under when Mahal was found out and then the joyful day when Mahal woke up his sons and the dwarves came to be in the world on the day of the winter Solstice. It was like nothing Bilbo had ever experienced and he was left breathless by it, as he was by so much about Thorin.

What made it even more intense was the way that Thorin would sometimes look up at his audience as he read and more often than not his gaze met Bilbo's (if Bilbo was truthful, he didn't think he'd looked away once) and Bilbo's heart faltered. Every time it did so it hurt a little more at the fruitlessness of this...this silly _crush _(Bilbo knew it was more, and that even if he didn't know it Thorin held his heart in the palm of his hand) but then the simple pleasure he got from merely being in the dwarf's presence was enough.

All too soon yet at the same time it felt like hours later, Thorin finished; closing the book gently with a little sigh. There was silence as everyone seemed to wake up from the almost trance-like state Thorin had put them all in, and Bilbo was uncertain of the protocol required here. No one was clapping so he refrained too, but he felt like he needed to do something to acknowledge how amazing it had been. So he settled for simply smiling the biggest smile he could when Thorin looked at him after putting the book away.

Thorin returned the smile and he walked over to Bilbo. 'Did you enjoy it?'

'I - Thorin, that was amazing. Of course I enjoyed it.'

Thorin laughed then, a small laugh but filled with such happiness it made Bilbo feel all warm inside.

'Thank you, _Bahèl_,' he said, and he pressed his forehead to Bilbo's just for a moment but it was long enough that Bilbo's legs turned to jelly beneath him. Especially when paired with Thorin's words - Bilbo had picked up a little Khuzdûl over the course of their journey and had remembered it; he knew the term Thorin had just used meant _friend of all friends. _As if Thorin needed to do anything else to make Bilbo even more smitten than he already was!

Bilbo was interrupted from his thoughts by a small knock on the door and then a maid entered. 'Your Highness, it's beginning to grow dark outside. Everything is set up ready for you in the market and the gate is prepared.' She gave a curtsey and Thorin nodded at her and she left. Thorin looked around at the Company.

'We need to be ready in half an hour,' he said. ' Meet back here in half an hour's time. Be sure to tell the others.' The other dwarves quickly dispersed and Thorin turned to Bilbo and Frodo. 'You need to change into your best clothes and meet back here-'

'-In half an hour, yes,' Bilbo said, smiling. Thorin nodded. Bilbo coaxed Frodo up from the sofa and left the room, heading quickly back to their chamber where he got out their very best clothes.

Bilbo had packed them extra carefully, keeping them as wrinkle free as is possible when they're in a pack saddled to a pony, and they had all been hung up neatly by a servant when they'd arrived so were thankfully in perfect condition.

They both wore a snow white shirt of soft linen and then a fine waistcoat - Frodo's in a festive red, Bilbo's a holly-leaf green - with snowflakes and holly detailing in the silk. The material was shot through with gold thread and the buttons were real gold too; the cuffs on their shirts were embroidered with a flowing pattern of gold. On top Bilbo insisted they wear their new dwarven coats and then, after making sure Frodo's hair was brushed properly, they were ready to go.

They were early, still with five minutes to spare, but they weren't alone as Dori, Ori and a very smart-looking Nori were already there too. Nori looked uncomfortable in his ornate clothing but Bilbo thought that all three of them looked incredibly fetching. The others grinned and Nori said, 'you don't scrub up so bad yerself, Bilbo.'

Dori began fussing over Frodo, straightening his jacket almost obsessive compulsively, but Bilbo knew he just liked to fuss over those he cared about and Frodo bore it with patience.

And then Thorin and Dís and the princes entered, the former in the purple and gold robes that Bilbo had seen yesterday and the latter in suits (and a truly beautiful dress, in Dís' case) of deepest blue velvet and encrusted with gold and diamonds. Of course they looked fabulous, but Bilbo's eyes were only for Thorin. The man was just too attractive; Yavanna, no one else even stood a chance just being in the same room as Thorin.

Thankfully the others all arrived very quickly afterwards, Glóin and Bombur with their wives and children which caused no end of commotion as they had to be shepherded around and they chattered loudly until they were sent sharp looks from their mothers. Eventually though all members of the Company were gathered and ready, and they set off down to the centre of the city - the market square.

They heard the noise of the gathered populace long before they saw it, the low rumble of chatter and laughter travelling through the thick rock. Bilbo was holding tight to Frodo's hand and a pleasant curl of anticipation had started to build in his stomach; Frodo was already nearly thrumming with excitement as he gripped Bilbo's hand. When they reached the market Thorin turned off into a smaller corridor with a set of stairs, which they all followed. There was a pageboy at the top of the stairs who bowed low to Thorin, who said a few words in Khuzdûl to him and he scampered through the door behind him.

Bilbo heard silence fall outside as the page stepped out and then he spoke a few words; while Bilbo didn't understand it all, he recognised Thorin's name being called and then a haunting set of notes were played. Before Thorin stepped out he sent a warm smile to Bilbo, reassuring him, and then he went out.

The noise as the people cheered was deafening and it made Bilbo happy to know that Thorin was so popular with his people. He heard Thorin shouting out in Khuzdûl once the cheering had died down again, and then it was their turn to move, Dís laying a hand on his shoulder and leading him and Frodo through the door, the rest of the Company following.

They stepped out on to a large balcony, overlooking the crowds, with a set of stairs on one side which was blocked off by guards at the bottom to stop people coming up. Dís and Fíli and Kíli stood close to his side while the others arranged themselves around the balcony, but before Bilbo could go and stand and seek comfort at Bofur's side Thorin had placed a hand on his shoulder and drawn him to the front next to him.

Bilbo's clasp on Frodo's hand tightened infinitesimally and the lad returned it with a small squeeze of his own as the two stood at the front of the balcony, Bilbo pulled close to Thorin's side in a way that made Bilbo's heart pound and Frodo just looking absolutely chuffed at the whole thing.

Thorin continued to speak in Khuzdûl, the people below listening attentively, and Bilbo heard his and Frodo's names being said in the stream of harshly beautiful-sounding Khuzdûl. And then Thorin stopped; an unlit reed torch was handed to him, along with a small candle of dark blue wax, its little flame casting shadows on his face as he stared into the orange light.

Absolute silence fell; just for a moment it was as if Erebor was empty, it was so quiet. Thorin muttered a couple of words and then he began to sing.

All the singing Bilbo had heard before paled in comparison to this. All the little songs he'd heard Thorin sing over the course of their journey were nothing compared to the deep, haunting but still joyful notes that echoed around the hall. Bilbo felt inexplicable tears begin to well up and he hastily wiped them away, laying a hand on Frodo's head as a source of comfort. As Thorin sang he slowly put the little flame to the oil-dipped reeds and they lit in a whoosh of hot, orange flame before the fire settled and began to burn evenly.

Slowly the others began to join in the song, first Dís and Fíli and Kíli, then the rest of the Company and gradually the whole gathering ofc dwarves below. When the cavernous halls of Erebor were filled with the sounds of hundreds of thousands of voices, Thorin lifted the torch high in front of him and began to walk down the stairs. The rest of the Company and the two hobbits followed, forming a long snaking procession. The people had cleared a path and as they passed the people joined the procession until they were all stood outside in the dark Solstice night, the moon and stars blinking down on them.

The song ended after a while and Thorin climbed up to the Main Gate, the torch still in his hand. He spoke again into the silence that had fallen, his voice strong and loud in the crisp winter air, something about the fire of Durin, and then he put the torch to the large lantern above the gate. When it caught cheers sounded from the crowd and they started to sing again, a jollier sounding tune than before.

Thorin shut the door of the lantern to protect the flame and rejoined the others and the procession back inside began, this time to the huge main hall where a feast was set up.

'Did you like the ceremony?' Thorin asked Bilbo, who was still clutching Frodo's hand tightly, and there was an air of sincerity in his voice underneath the light tone that suggested he really did want to know what Bilbo thought.

'It was unlike anything I've ever experienced,' he said. 'It was... I can't even describe it,' Bilbo admitted, at a loss for words. How could he describe to Thorin the emotion it had evoked in him; the pride that they would share their culture with him, the unbridled joy that Thorin wanted him here with him...the pain of knowing that he was going to have to leave sooner or later and go back to being the strange old bachelor Mr Baggins with only his nephew for company. After what he'd known here, life in the Shire just wasn't the idyllic haven it had been before.

'I hope that's a good thing,' Thorin said, a little uncertain. Bilbo placed a hand on his arm gently.

'It is,' he said simply, and Thorin placed a hand on top of Bilbo's and gave it a gentle squeeze before joining his sister and nephews to lead the procession into the hall.

The feast was as all dwarven meals were - plentiful, rich, with an almost unending supply of ale and mead and mulled wine. Thorin presided over the head of the Table of State and the rest of the Company sat around it, eating and drinking and laughing. Bilbo was next to Bofur and the dwarf kept pouring him another glass of mead or mug of ale and Bilbo felt himself grow slightly tipsy as his head buzzed and he laughed a lot easier. Frodo was next to Ori and the two were deep in discussion of Father Snowbeard, who was the dwarf equivalent of the hobbits' Papa Yule, while Bofur kept teasing Bilbo.

'Do you see Thorin giving me funny looks, Bilbo? He's jealous of me...' Bofur chuckled, leaning close to Bilbo and talking into his ear. Bilbo blushed and sent a quick glance in Thorin's direction and, sure enough, Thorin was looking at Bofur with slightly narrowed eyes but he smiled when he noticed Bilbo looking at him, before taking a long gulp of ale and turning to talk to Dís. 'Look, he's even blushing now...'

'Bofur, please stop...' Bilbo muttered, incredibly embarrassed and yet a traitorous spark of hope lighting his belly which he tried to suppress immediately with a good dose of common sense; but common sense, it seemed, had abandoned Bilbo this evening, or at least been washed away by the copious amounts of ale he'd drunk.

'Alright, alright, I'm jus' sayin',' Bofur grinned, raising his hands in defeat. But it didn't stop him sending Bilbo the odd suggestive glance or pointed look at Thorin. Bilbo was so embarrassed his ears were burning so he focused on his food, decidedly ignoring Bofur and talking around him to discuss the food with Bombur.

At one point Frodo jumped up to go and talk to Fíli and Kíli, and Bilbo was a little concerned by the amount of grins that were exchanged and the mischievous glint in the princes' eyes, but Frodo was calm when he came back and leaned his head on Bilbo's shoulder.

Bilbo began to rake his fingers through the dark curls that were in disarray and after a while Frodo grew gradually heavier against his arm as he grew more tired.

'Are you ready for bed, lad?' Bilbo whispered gently and Frodo nodded, his eyes closed. Bilbo wrapped an arm around him and held him close while he asked Bofur if it would be rude to leave the table to put Frodo to bed. Bofur assured him it wasn't so he woke Frodo and made the lad get up and the two left the Hall, leaving behind the noise and chatter. Bilbo kept his arm around Frodo, although he nearly stumbled when he heard his name called.

'Bilbo?' Bilbo turned to see Thorin looking at him in concern. 'Is everything alright?'

'Oh, yes, Frodo's just tired so I'm putting him to bed.' Bilbo's heart was hammering at being so close to Thorin without thirteen other witnesses, and Frodo looked as if he might drop off at any moment. Thorin's face cleared a little at his words.

'Shall I carry him? He looks nearly dead on his feet,' Thorin offered, and before Bilbo could protest he'd scooped Frodo up and was holding him to his chest. He and Bilbo then began walking, making their way up through the silent halls to their quarters. They didn't talk much, Bilbo out f fear that his alcohol-loosened tongue might betray him by saying something stupid, Thorin out of... Bilbo wasn't sure why Thorin didn't talk, but it wasn't out of character so he didn't wonder why. He did have a look of concentration on his face, however, which Bilbo did wonder about. Had Frodo eaten that much...?

They reached Bilbo's rooms and Bilbo opened the doors for Thorin, pulling the covers back on the bed so Thorin could put Frodo down among the furs and blankets. Bilbo sat on the edge of the bed next to his sleeping nephew and tucked him in gently.

'I'll get him changed later on,' Bilbo said, more to fill the silence than because Thorin needed to know. 'I'll have to make him go to the privy as well...' he quickly shut up then as Thorin really didn't need to know _that_.

He quickly pressed a kiss to Frodo's head and stood up - a little too hastily perhaps, as he swayed a bit and Thorin caught him, his hand causing sparks to shoot up Bilbo's arm and settle in his stomach. He thanked Thorin and muttered that they should move to the ante-chamber so as not to wake Frodo up, and Thorin still didn't say anything but just nodded and held the door open for Bilbo.

They stood there a little awkwardly, Bilbo not having a clue what to say now that he really was alone with Thorin, who had a slight frown on his face as he regarded Bilbo. Bilbo's throat was suddenly dry and he swallowed and licked his lips, and jumped when Thorin let out a small huff.

'Bilbo, I -' he started, and then stopped and looked at the floor as if it was personally to blame for his awkwardness. 'Bilbo, there's a... A tradition at the Solstice that the one thing you really wish for, if it's at all possible, should be granted. I... I wonder if there's anything, anything at all, that I can grant you?'

Bilbo's breath stopped and he had to remember to actually breathe, in and out... Of course there was one thing he wanted with all his heart, that he'd wanted for six whole years, but of course he couldn't ask Thorin for that. He couldn't ask for what he wanted, no matter how deeply he wished for it.

'I...' he cleared his throat. 'I don't believe there is anything, no,' he said, not letting his sadness show in his voice.

Thorin frowned slightly but stepped closer to Bilbo, whose breath hitched and he coughed to cover it up.

'I will admit,' Thorin said, 'there's one thing that I have wished for. I've wished it for so long-' his voice cracked and he took a deep breath before carrying on. Bilbo's heart was pounding as if it would jump right out of his ribcage when Thorin took another step closer. 'You're the only one who could grant me it, Bilbo.'

He was so close to Bilbo now, so close their breath was mingling.

'W - what is it?' he whispered.

'You,' Thorin said, and then ever so gently he pressed his lips to Bilbo's.

Bilbo froze in shock, but when his brain caught up he immediately returned the kiss, growing more sure as Thorin wrapped his arms around Bilbo's waist and let out a little moan. Bilbo smiled against his lips and reached up to touch Thorin's hair, his fingers twisting in the dark locks.

He'd dreamed of this for so long, for six long years and now all his barriers were broken down and his love and his pent-up desire was pouring out of him after that one gentle kiss from Thorin.

Suddenly they both froze, jumping apart at the noise of the door clicking. They turned, expecting to see someone there but there was no one. The room was empty of anyone other than them. They both relaxed again, Bilbo blushing now after the intensity of his feelings, but then a small laugh sounded from outside.

It sounded suspiciously like Fíli and Kíli.

Thorin took Bilbo's hand and curled his hand around it, holding it tightly and drawing Bilbo close to him as he walked to the door and twisted the door handle, pulling on it -

But it didn't open. It was locked, and when Thorin pulled on it again, trying to open it, the laughs from outside grew louder. It was _definitely_ Fíli and Kíli

'Boys!' Thorin shouted through the door. 'Open the door!'

'Hello, Uncle! Or should we say, "Uncles"?' That was Kíli.

'Boys...' Thorin growled. 'I'll tell your mother about this if you don't open this door right now!'

'Ah, I doubt that'll have the consequence you'd be hoping for...' Fíli said through the door.

'She _may _have been the one to set this up...' Kíli added thoughtfully.

Thorin leaned his head against the door. 'Boys,' he growled, and Bilbo tightened his hold on Thorin's arm and leaned into him. 'If you don't open this door, you won't get your Solstice presents...'

One of the boys coughed thoughtfully. 'Erm. About that...'

'We might have already found them...'

'Last week when we came to look for you...'

'And Nori may have seen us...?'

Thorin growled again.

'Now, Uncle Thorin, you're staying in there until you and Uncle Bilbo have...sorted things out.'

'I'm sure you know what we mean by that, uncle Bilbo...'

Bilbo blushed and Thorin gave a final pound on the door and growled that his nephews were going to be in serious trouble when he got out before turning back to Bilbo and capturing his lips in a passionate kiss once again, leaving Bilbo breathless when they finally parted.

'Your nephews are terrors,' Bilbo murmured, carding his fingers through Thorin's beard.

Thorin pressed his forehead to Bilbo's and looked at him, his eyes so full of love that Bilbo couldn't quite believe that gaze was directed at him.

'They're your nephews now too,' Thorin murmured, his voice so sensuous and full of desire that Bilbo shivered.

'You mean that?' Bilbo asked, hands pausing from stroking Thorin's beard - which was as prickly as he'd imagined so many times before, but so much softer at the same time - and looking up at Thorin.

Thorin smiled and kissed him again. 'Of course. And I keep my word.'

Bilbo flushed in pleasure at hearing those words and lost himself in Thorin's soft lips again. The feel of Thorin's kisses was making him giddy and with the mead he'd consumed he swayed slightly when Thorin released him. He laughed lightly and Thorin immediately tightened his grip on Bilbo's waist again and nosed his ear.

'I - I think I need to lie down,' Bilbo admitted to Thorin's chest and then let out an ungainly squawk when Thorin picked him up and started carrying him to the bedroom.

'Thorin!' he laughed. 'We can't-'

'Bilbo, don't worry,' he said, smiling into Bilbo's curls. 'We've got the rest of our lives for that...'

Bilbo just wrapped his arms around Thorin's neck and sighed happily. Frodo had moved around on the bed and was sprawled across the middle of it, breathing softly as he slept.

Thorin looked at him fondly and Bilbo smiled, his nephew and his love together and he thought he might simply explode in happiness at the surge of love flowing through his veins so fiercely and furiously. He lay down, flopping next to Frodo and taking hold of the lad's hand.

'He's your nephew now too,' he said softly, and Thorin smiled so happily that Bilbo laughed. Frodo suddenly stirred and woke, blinking blearily.

'Hey, Frodo,' Bilbo breathed softly and stroked his curls. Frodo noticed Thorin sitting next to Bilbo and a huge smile appeared on his face.

'Stay,' he commanded, and Thorin chuckled lightly.

'I'm not going anywhere,' he said, and Frodo smiled in a satisfied manner before closing his eyes and falling back asleep. Thorin lay down on the other side of the bed when Bilbo tugged at his arm, catching Bilbo's hand and holding onto it, their arms resting over Frodo's sleeping body. Bilbo lay, happily looking into Thorin's eyes over Frodo's mop of hair and thinking that this, _this _is what he'd been dreaming of for six lonely years. His heart had never felt so full, and when Thorin began stroking careful circles on his palm with his thumb Bilbo smiled as he closed his eyes and fell asleep, feeling happier than he had done in years.

When Frodo felt Thorin and his uncle holding hands as they lay on either side of him, he thought that Papa Yule had indeed been very generous this year. He was happy, his uncle was happy... It was the best Yule ever.

Funnily enough, Bilbo and Thorin quite agreed.

_**Finis**_

* * *

**A/N: I hope you enenjoyed! Thank you all so much for the reviews, favourites and follows - I appreciate it so very much :3 Please do let me know what you thought of this story because I'd love to know :D :D**

**Finally, my dear DancingChestnut - I hope you liked your present :')**


End file.
